Polluting the Shades of Pemberley
by Things-One-and-Two
Summary: Lizzy and Mr. Darcy enter into the realm of matrimony and a new life at Pemberley with a friendly sister and eventually children! Includes all the characters we love and hate. Sequel to P&P.
1. Man and Wife

_Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, they belong to the ingenious Jane Austen, one of the best writers in the world... well at least in my obsessed opinion. _

_This is my solo fanfiction and my first one for Jane Austen, though it has been brewing for awhile. Just a note, I am not trying to copy her style of writing because it is very superior to my own and I cannot coin words as well as her. Another note, this is Thing Two writing, not Thing One. We're cousins writing a story together so we have the same account, just to make it all a little more confusing. _

**Man and Wife**

He looked towards the back of the church, away from the glittering alter and the kindly priest directly in front of him. He could not imagine a more joyous day than this, a day he thought would never occur. His close friend as his best man and his soon-to -be-wife's sister as her maid, or rather matron, of honor. Glancing through the crowd he noticed all the people he had meet within the last year and all the people he had always known. His wife's family, all except one who was with- no, he wouldn't let that man ruin his wedding day. Her aunt and uncle, the ones he had met at Pemberley and were the main reason he was standing here today, were there, though he noticed their numerous children were absent. He glanced briefly at Miss Bingley dressed in her usual haughty style, her expression more suitable for a funeral. He smiled inwardly at that and his eyes landed on his beloved sister, more precious to him than anything. She smiled prettily up at him and he smiled in return. The wizened man at the organ began his tune, one that had been repeated many times. Everyone stood and turned towards the back of the old stone church where the man was watching intently.

An angel glowing in white was escorted down the long aisle by her father who seemed both proud and miserable at the same time. He was losing his favorite daughter, yet she was gaining a life of happiness. She blushed slightly from embarrassment and excitement as she walked between the crowds of people, the stain glass windows shining onto her white gown. Her fine eyes sparkled up to her awaiting husband along with a radiant smile which he returned. Her father reluctantly let go of her arm, holding on as long as he could, and her husband and her sister helped her up the last few steps. Everyone turned obediently towards the priest as he began the rites that would join the two lovers forever.

The promises were made with happy confidence and the rings given in reminder. The quick kiss was delivered and the priest raised his hands towards the awaiting assembly.

"I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy!" He exclaimed to the crowd and was answered by applause and calls. Women were dabbing their eyes with their handkerchiefs and Mrs. Bennet refrained from bawling like she had done at Jane's wedding.

The blushing bride was escorted out of the church on her husband's arm and they waited on the steps to greet everyone as they were leaving.

Her mother was the first to greet them with wet eyes and waving her frilly handkerchief. "Oh, my dear Lizzy, to have you married at last! Oh, you can't imagine my happiness. Oh, Lizzy!" Her mother rambled on breathlessly. "'Tis a shame you must go so far away, but for ten-thousands pounds we couldn't expect to keep you at Meryton, could we, my dear. If only you could stay near us and your sisters, then I would be perfectly happy."

"Now, now, my dear, that is the price we pay for having daughters," Mr. Bennet interjected wisely. "Though I am afraid I will feel the parting more keenly than you, Mrs. Bennet."

"Oh, Mr. Bennet! You jest! I know that they must leave, of course, but to see them gone so far away, and you _will_ be so far away my dear, all the way at Pemberly," Mrs. Bennet lamented loudly to her daughter.

Elizabeth smiled at the familiar banter between her parents, but she could tell it did not grate well on her husband though he suffered it silently.

The Bennets moved a little towards the right still talking loudly but making room for others to greet the bride and groom.

Following next was Miss Caroline Bingley who congratulated Elizabeth haughtily and as civilly as she could. With Mr. Darcy she was slightly more agreeable though the fact that he had not chosen her to be his bride still pained her. However, she still wanted to have the acquaintance of Pemberley and she moved off to the left to wait for Georgiana, hoping to stay as far away from the Bennets as possible. It was Darcy's turn to smile in amusement as she walked away. Next came a more agreeable pair, as the best man and matron of honor descended arm in arm from the church.

"Oh, Lizzy," Jane began in her quiet, sincere manner. "To think that we both should be so happy and content, it is unimaginable!"

"Only to you, my dear Jane," Elizabeth replied smiling at her favorite sister. "I only wish Netherfield and Pemberley were closer, but we cannot have everything, can we?"

"No, indeed we cannot, " Jane said and both girls were reflecting on their youngest sister. "But it all came together anyway."

Elizabeth nodded her head and continued. "So, when can we expect the both of you at Pemberley?"

"I do not know, but I expect it will have to be in few months time as I still have to meet some cousins of Charles' that reside in London and could not come to the wedding."

"Well, just write us a letter or stop on our doorstep whenever you wish to visit," Elizabeth replied smiling to her sister. "I think we shall have to separate our husbands 'fore I believe there is a line stating to form."

Jane laughed. "Good day, then, Lizzy. We shall see the both of you soon. Come Charles," she said gently to her husband. "I fear you will have to leave Mr. Darcy now as there is a line forming behind us."

Mr. Bingley glanced back at the line and exclaimed "Good God!" before turning back, exceedingly embarrassed, to the laughing Darcys. He gave Mrs. Darcy a very eloquent farewell and congratulations for the both of them. "But you must make sure, Mrs. Darcy, to have this husband of yours mix more at parties or we shall have a frightful time when we all meet!"

Everyone laughed, including Mr. Darcy, and the Bingleys made their way over to the Bennets where Mrs. Bennet was already making plans very loudly of visiting the Bingleys as soon as they returned. Georgiana Darcy came up with her companion, Mrs. Annesley, who would accompany her to London with Miss Bingley and also look for a new station. Both Georgiana and Elizabeth got along very much like sisters already and agreed that Mrs. Annesley would no longer be needed. However, she would be allowed to stay with her salary until she received a new station. Mrs. Annesley, though saddened at having to leave Georgiana who was rather like a daughter, was eager to help other young ladies as she had helped Georgiana start to overcome her extreme shyness.

"I cannot tell you how eager I am for us all to be back at Pemberley, Elizabeth," Georgiana told Elizabeth happily while her brother watched the both of them. "I cannot believe how fortunate I am to have received a lady such as yourself for a sister. Will you be returning in a fortnight to Pemberley?"

Elizabeth glanced up at her husband and then replied. "No, we will be gone for about three weeks. But then we shall have the run of Pemberley all to ourselves and you and your brother will have to acquaint me with everything inside and around it."

"Three weeks cannot come too soon," Georgiana replied happily and then turned to her brother who wanted to issue his usual warnings to her before she went off to town. Though she was a year older and a bit more wiser, Wickham's scare last year was not forgotten by anyone.

Mrs. Annesley said a few kind words to both Mr. and Mrs. Darcy and promised to keep a sharp eye on Georgiana. Then the pair of them moved over to where Miss Bingley was standing haughtily removed from the rest of the crowd as though she would catch some deadly disease if she mingled. Unfortunately, Mr. Collins decided that now would be his time to capture his cousin and the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

"Congratulations, cousin Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Collins greeted pompously along with equally pompous bows to each. Mrs. Collins came up behind him and shot an apologetic look to Elizabeth. Rising from his bow, he continued. "I am very happy for the both of you and hope you will find as much happiness as I in the married state. I must say though, that you have greatly displeased her Ladyship and it would be well on you to mend that breach in the family. Her Ladyship is most kind and generous and I am sure she would eagerly welcome the both of you back into the family circle."

Here he was interrupted by his wife who eagerly wished to talk to Elizabeth and silence her husband. "When will you be returning to Pemberley, Eliza?"

"In about three weeks, Charlotte. How are you doing? When do you begin your lying in?"

"In another two months, but I'm doing fine. I am not as old as you might think, Eliza."

"I said nothing of the kind!" She exclaimed and their short visit ended somewhat happily.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner seized their chance to greet the couple that they helped form. Joyful smiles were on everyone's faces when the Gardiners approached. After the congratulations were made, Elizabeth presently asked when they would be arriving at Pemberley.

"My dear, if you keep giving out invitations to Pemberley, we will never have the place to ourselves," Mr. Darcy teased.

"Perhaps I would not like to spend all of my time with just you," Elizabeth teased back.

"To be young and in love, " Mrs. Gardiner said smiling.

"Don't lament, dear aunt, for you and Mr. Gardiner have four children and are still in love."

The party began to dwindle down as the light outside began to fade. Many entreaties to come and visit were made and everyone stood on the church steps as Mr. and Mrs. Darcy stepped into their open air carriage. With a final wave and yells of farewell, the carriage rolled away from the church with the younger Lucases chasing after it. Elizabeth turned in her seat so she could wave at the old familiar church and the many familar faces that surrounded it as they slowly grew smaller and smaller. A sharp bend in the road suddenly blocked it all from sight. She sighed as she turned back to face the rigid back of the driver.

"What's the matter, Elizabeth?" Her husband asked gently.

She turned away from him and gazed out at the last fields of the town. "I never realized how much I was leaving behind, that's all. There are some I won't miss, but I cannot help missing Jane and Papa. I know he will miss me sorely what with Mama and her nerves." A small smile played about her lips.

Mr. Darcy reached forward and entwined his hand with hers. She moved her gaze away from the fields and rested it on him. "Then we will have him come and visit often, though I'm sure you have already given him a free invitation," he teased.

"Of course, he is my father after all."

"True, but we are now man and wife," he said, becoming more serious.

"I would never forget that," she replied smiling.

* * *

"Oh Jane, I am so glad Netherfield is so close by," Mrs. Bennet began with her usual lamentations as they walked down the path from the now empty church towards Longbourn. "Poor Lizzy, to be so far away from us all, I don't know quite how she will bear it. I know I shouldn't be able to, what with my poor nerves."

"Do not worry, Mama. I am quite sure Lizzy will be happy with Mr. Darcy and -"

"Well of course she'd be happy with ten-thousand pounds and such a large estate, but how could anyone be happy away from all their relations," Mrs. Bennet continued slightly annoyed, ignoring everyone else.

Mr. Bennet expertly tuned out his wife's grumblings which increased as they parted ways with the Bingleys. He was more preoccupied with returning to Longbourn which suddenly felt empty and foreign. It would take him a long while to get used to not hearing Elizabeth's witty jokes, seeing her smiles as she passed him in the hall, and mostly he would miss her sense, something that would now be impossible to find. True, he could always visit the Bingleys, but nothing could replace his favorite daughter.

"Papa?" Kitty asked, recalling him back to the present. "Papa, Lizzy said I could go and visit her at Pemberly in July. May I go, Papa?"

"Yes, you may, Kitty."

"And Lydia invited me to join her a fortnight before Michaelmas, may I go visit her too?"

"That I absolutely forbid!" Mr. Bennet stated firmly. "You'll not go about with all those officers consuming your every thoughts. You'll stay with your elder sister and hopefully gain some sense off her!"

Kitty's eyes began to swim with tears and Mrs. Bennet hurriedly put her thoughts in. "Mr. Bennet! How can you let her go see Lizzy and have nothing to do with Lydia? They are both her sisters and respectably married -"

"Respectably married!" Mr. Bennet cried, losing his temper. "Have you forgotten the pains we endured when Lydia eloped? Do you think elopement is the same as respectably married? Kitty will either go to Pemberley or Netherfield where she has sisters of sense or go nowhere at all!"

Mr. Bennet stormed into his library immediately regretting losing his temper. True, he was greatly upset over Lizzy going away, but he would not tolerate Kitty going to Lydia and having her elope too. Sitting heavily in a chair, he continued to think as the sun set over the trees. Kitty had some sense, but unfortunately it was all buried under Lydia's influence. Hopefully Jane or Lizzy would be able to save her. Glancing around his library and hearing the unusual quiet of the house, he could not help but feel self-pity.

"With my two sensible daughters gone, who will save me?"

_I hope you liked it. Please drop a review and let me know how I'm doing. _


	2. Coming Home

_Disclaimer: Again, all of the characters that you recognize are the products of Jane Austen. _

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you have no idea how much they meant. Sorry this took awhile in coming, but enjoy!_

Georgiana Darcy sat alone in her room at the Bingley's house in London wondering how to spend her free morning. Mrs. Annesley had gone to an interview at the Stevenson's and would not return until dinner. She had spent her last free morning with Miss Bingley and was entombed in her room discussing the evening party and Mr. Campwell, a man of six thousand pounds a year and a decent estate in Devon. Since Mr. Darcy had agreed that Georgiana would be allowed to "come out", Miss Bingley had insisted on bringing her to all of the parties and dances that she had been invited too. Georgiana looked at each party with dread as her shyness made it hard for her to chat easily with strangers, though she was steadily improving. However, the reports still circulated around London that Miss Georgiana Darcy, though heiress to thirty-thousand pounds and exceedingly pretty, was most insufferably proud.

Not wishing to repeat another morning listening to Miss Bingley gossip, she decided to write a letter to her new sister, though she was on her honeymoon. But since both Elizabeth and her brother had given her the address for the inn they would be staying at for the last week of their honeymoon, they surely would expect her to write. Getting up from the window seat, Georgiana crossed the room to the writing desk and sat down to begin her letter. Sharpening the nub of the pen and dipping it into the inkwell, she began to write.

_My dear sister Elizabeth,_

_I hope this letter finds both you and my dear brother safe and well at your last inn and enjoying your honeymoon. Though Mrs. Annesley advised me not to write as it is your honeymoon and you would want little interruption, I thought that since you had given me your address it would be inexcusable not to write. I do not expect a reply since, when you receive this, we will be seeing each other in less than a weeks time. _

_Since my "coming out", Miss Bingley has included me in all of the invitations to dinners and dances that she has been invited to. To be quite honest, I am horribly afraid every time she announces an engagement as it means I shall have to come along too. Unfortunately, I have not quite conquered my shyness and within a week of coming out have been labeled as exceedingly proud. It is very unnerving to walk into a room and have everyone turn and whisper about you to everyone else, especially when you know exactly what they are saying. The men in a party ask the women who the young lady is that has just walked in the door. The women reply with my name and add that I have thirty thousand pounds to my name. With this remark the men's faces light up and the women quickly conquer their hope by spreading how insufferably proud I am. Then they all begin abusing me. I know this from having been within hearing distance during one of these exchanges and I can tell the conversation is widely repeated just by judging the looks on people's faces when I enter. Though this rumor is widely agreed upon, it has not stopped a few men from proposing, but thankfully I remembered my dear brother's advice and turned them down at which point they all became quite nasty before trying to woo other less suspecting ladies. I am glad I already had my scare with that man before officially coming out. Now I will know the difference between men loving me or my money. _

_Dear sister, do you think it quite possible that any man would love me for myself? The more I see of men and the more gossip I hear at these parties and from Miss Bingley, it seems that everyone is just concerned with money. Indeed, though it is quite shocking to find it in a friend, I believe Miss Bingey is of the same opinion, that money is much more important than anything. Mr. Campwell, a man of six thousand a year who Miss Bingley talks about incessantly, has been at many of the same parties as ourselves. He is a handsome man, to be sure, but completely narcissistic to an unbearable point. But Miss Bingley sees nothing but good in him and his six thousand pounds which she constantly points out is a larger sum than Mr. Bingley's. However, one good thing has come about from these parties. I have made the acquaintance of Miss Isabel Rowndell who is a lady a year my senior from a respectable family from Salisbury. She is quite more outgoing than myself, but she and I share a common dislike of parties. We have_-

A loud knock on the door startled Georgiana. She hurried across the room and opened the door to reveal Miss Bingley glad in one of her usual striped silks.

"Good morning, Georgiana," she greeted, striding into Georgiana's room without waiting for a proper invitation. "I wondered if you were going to stay in your room all day!"

"Of course not, Miss Bingley," she replied, trying to move inconspicuously towards her writing desk. "I was just enjoying a free morning since Mrs. Annesely has an interview."

"All alone in your room, you should have come and visited me, Georgiana. Though I hope her interview shall not take all day," Miss Bingley continued haughtily. "We have just been invited to the Campwells for dinner. It will be an intimate gathering," her eyebrows lifting in her own smugness, then frowning as she continued, "but those Rowndells be there too. I don't see why they have the presumption to come too, Mr. Rowndell has only four thousand pounds and the Miss Rowndells are such frivolous girls."

Georgiana, having successfully hidden her letter when Miss Bingley had looked away while talking of the Rowndells, voiced her own defense of her friend. "Miss Isabel Rowndell is a fine lady, as is her elder sister. They are both so welcoming and accomplished, have you not heard Miss Isabel sing? She has quite a lovely voice."

"Lovely voice?" Miss Bingely repeated scandalized. "I assure you, Georgiana, that your voice is a hundred times more lovely than Miss Isabel's. I hope you are not considering an acquaintance with those Rowndells, they are much beneath you. Think of your honor as a Darcy! I am quite sure your brother would not like you becoming intimate with such people."

"I am sure that my sister would approve along with my brother, and they are excellent judges of character," young Georgiana stated resolutely to a surprised Miss Bingley.

"Yes, I am sure your sister would have not disapprove of them," Miss Bingley replied scathingly, her expression sour and sneering. "Well, I must go inform the servants that we will not be in for dinner. I wish your companion was here, I loathe talking to them. They are so rude and coarse!"

Miss Bingley turned on her heel and left in a worse temper than when she had entered and Georgiana privately thought that she would not wish to be the servant she talked too. She decided to return to her letter as was just about to begin when another knock echoed in her room. However, this knock was a double knock, letting her know that it was Mrs. Annesley back again. She opened the door and greeted her companion joyfully.

"How was your interview?" She asked as she helped Mrs. Annesley off with her cloak.

"It went very well, they will write to me in a week to say whether or not they will accept me, but I am very confident that they will," Mrs. Annesley said happily before turning around and facing Georgiana with a sorrowful expression. "Though I must say, I will greatly miss you Georgiana. It is not very likely that I will find such a kind young lady to be with."

"Thank you," replied Georgiana, blushing. "But I'm sure within a few weeks you will be saying the same thing about your new charge." Seeing her about to refute that remark, Georgiana hastily continued. "Miss Bingley was in while you were gone and she wanted us to know that we have been invited to dinner at the Campwells. It is supposed to be an intimate occasion and it shall just be us, the Campwells, and the Rowndells."

Mrs. Annesley brightened when she heard that the Rowndells would also be going. "Well, at least the Rowndells will be joining us. The Campwells are kind people indeed, but do not you find the Rowndells a bit more welcoming?" She asked.

"Yes, very much so. It would not be wrong of me to have the acquaintance of Miss Isabel Rowndell, would it?"

"No, no, not at all. She is a fine lady of respectable birth and very sound judgment from what I've seen. I would not have encouraged you to meet with her if I thought otherwise. Why do you ask?"  
"Well, Miss Bingley thought she is beneath my notice, but I told how charming I think Isabel and her sister are."

Mrs. Annesley pursed her lips every so slightly. "You are old enough, now, Georgiana, to learn that you must not trust everyone's judgment. You will have to rely on your own judgment for I will not be here and your sister will not always be around to assist you. Always ask if you have doubts, but I feel it would be better to ask advice of your sister rather than Miss Bingley."

Georgiana nodded her head. "Then it is good that I have already asked her."

"Who, my dear?"

"My sister."

"You've gone and written to her, have you not?"

Georgiana nodded again.

"Then you are finally using your own judgment and I can leave in peace," Mrs. Annesley teased. "What time is this dinner party?"  
"Miss Bingley did not say... but I will go ask her," Georgiana continued, seeing the look on Mrs. Annesley's face. 

She smiled and said, "I quite believe that I have taught you well."

* * *

Elizabeth glanced around their room at the inn for the last time. All their trunks were packed and lying near the door and the footmen were busy dragging them down the stairs. She had sentimentally made her rounds about the small rooms, ingraining them into her memory, never to be forgotten. Staring unseeingly, Elizabeth knew she would never forget this place as long as she lived. How could she forget the last resting place of their honeymoon? She was startled out of her reverie by her husband appearing in a rush at the doorway.

"Come, Elizabeth, the carriage is nearly ready," he said as he extended his hand out for hers.

She held his hand and they walked down the corridor to the entryway of the inn following the footman with the last of their trunks. They talked very little as Mr. Darcy was evidently distracted. Elizabeth smiled. She knew how anxious her husband was to finally return home after being gone for months. Pemberley was his only sanctuary and one he needed after spending much of their courtship in Hertfordshire. Of course, she was just as anxious as him to return, though she was filled with a large fluttering of nervousness that settled in her stomach whenever she thought about it. The daunting questions of whether the servants would welcome her, if she would really be suited to such a life, and all sorts of doubts that she had stubbornly suppressed clouded her mind as she waited in the entryway.

Thinking back over their honeymoon, she remembered the letter Georgiana had written and how her husband reacted. He did not regret his decision to have Georgiana come out as he was still confident that she would overcome her extreme shyness by the time she was old enough to be respectfully married. In any rate, he told Elizabeth, should she indeed fall in love with a suitable man, his ingenious plan would force them into a long engagement. False love could not suffer that, he foolishly thought. As for the mysterious Miss Isabel Rowndell, he reluctantly decided that they would meet with her the next time they were all in London, though he privately hoped she would gone by then. Elizabeth had dutifully told him everything Georgiana had said, or so he thought. She had purposely neglected to tell him about her doubts whether anyone would love her just for herself, not her money. Though she knew her husband would have more empathy on that score, she thought that her experience of having no money and perhaps being forced into a marriage she did wish to enter for the necessity of money might have more of an impact on Georgiana. All in all, it really was a matter between sisters anyway as men generally did not understand the fears of women that they labeled as irrational.

Her meditations were again interrupted as John, the young footman, appeared in the doorway to inform her that the carriage was ready and the Master had gone to settle the bill. She kindly thanked him and followed him out to the street into the dazzling sunlight. The perfectly matched chestnut horses stamped impatiently, kicking up puffs of dirt, clearly as anxious to leave as their master. Elizabeth watched a peasant woman hurry along, clutching a large basket that smelled strongly of fish and being followed by a trail of children. Farther up the street she saw two young girls chasing each other until their mother appeared in a window, yelling at them to behave. Enraptured by the rustic charm of the bustling village, it took her much longer than it should have to notice the footman waiting for her at the door of the carriage, watching her with amused interest. She uncomfortably knew that he would be accosted by the servants back at Pemberley and be forced tell them what he thought of her. Her nervousness returning, she knew she had so far behaved dismally at her new role of Mistress of Pemberley.

Hesitating between accepting his hand and climbing into carriage or waiting for her husband, Elizabeth was saved from deciding as her husband presently came out of the inn. A small, amused smile lit his face as he saw Elizabeth's dilemma. She looked at him with relief, blushing slightly at his smile and John straightened slightly at the appearance of his master.

"I am sorry to say, John, that my wife has decided for me to be her footman today," Mr. Darcy stated, unable to repress the amusement that crept into it.

"Yes, sir," John replied with a youthful bow and a smile. He stepped towards the front to be out of their way while exchanging meaningful looks with the driver.

Mr. Darcy handed her up into the carriage before following himself. Quick as a flash, John had snuck up and shut the door before he could turn and do it himself. Bowing again with a grin, he nimbly climbed up next to the driver and within a moment the carriage jerked forward. Smiling at her husband, Elizabeth looked around at the rolling countryside, relishing the sun shining down on her head. Her honeymoon had been wonderful, visiting the lakes arm in arm with her husband and staying at inns and hotels along the way. But finally they were going home, home to Pemberley.

* * *

_Hope you liked, please review!_


	3. All the Time in the World

_Yep, I finally updated. That's what happens when you go on vacation, sometimes you get stuck without a computer. My brother is forcing me to mention him since I asked him to read this first. Yep, my brother likes Jane Austen. He sat through the A&E version willingly. Though he had to make some remarks, being a boy and all. Anyway, he wanted credit, so if it sucks, it's his fault! ;) _

_And thanks to **Maria T** for pointing out that mistake, I did mean to have "not" there, but I must've forgotten it. Is there a way to fix it without reloading the chapter? Anyway, enough of my chatter._

**All the Time in the World**

"When will you talk to the servants?"

"Very soon, but I wish to rest a little more."

"You cannot delay it for long, Georgiana. They need to hear it from you, it will heighten their respect for you."

"I know, but I-"

" -am frightened. I know, my dear, but you will feel much better once it is over with than fretting about it up here."

A sigh. "You are quite right. Shall we go?"

"You may go, I shall remain here. I am to leave soon and you are quite capable on you own."

Georgiana stared at Mrs. Annesley as though she could not believe she would abandon her to such a task. Mrs. Annesley laughed.

"I will be leaving in a fortnight and I would be exceedingly proud if my pupil were able to carry on conversations alone."

"I do not wish it, but I shall go."

Georgiana got up from her chair and crossed the room towards her mentor. Mrs. Annesley smiled up at her and received a quick embrace from her charge. Shocked at such an unexpected display from Georgiana, she ended up smiling as she realized that at least some of her teaching was taking effect. Saying as much to Georgiana, who blushed, she ushered her out of the room with words of encouragement before Georgiana could change her mind and retreat.

Staring into the empty corridor, Georgiana felt her resolve weaken. No sooner had she thought that she needed to go to the kitchen, her feet sprang into life and carried her unwilling mind towards her destination. Georgiana knew that the servants ate their meals promptly at half past noon as Harriet Cox, the cook, was firm in punctuality. If you were not there when dinner was served, you received none. She had reached the corridor which led to the staircase to the kitchen. Her nervousness settling upon her once more, she desperately tried to think of what she would say. Her feet, having turned traitor to her mind, led her steadily closer to her doom. She could hear the many voices coming from the tall wooden door right in front of her. Dragging in a deep breath, she unlatched the door and stepped in.

Almost immediately the talking stopped and every single pair of eyes was fixed on Georgiana who blushed and looked down. A large sound of scraping ensued as the owners of those eyes stood up and bowed, but their eyes remained fixed on her. Having them all stand, towering above her made her blush even more and begin wringing her hands.

"You- you may- all-all sit, please... do- do sit," she stuttered almost inaudibly. Everyone sat, still not taking their eyes off their mistress. Mrs. Reynolds scurried over with a kindly look on her face.

"Is there anything you desire, Mistress Georgiana?" Mrs. Reynolds asked gently, knowing full well of her mistress' distress when having to speak.

"I wish to make... a-a request," Georgiana continued miserably, wishing she could just vanish from the spot.

A large amount of whispering occurred after her announcement, especially from the foolish new maids. However, the devoted servants who had been there a long time and knew Georgiana, waited quietly for her to speak while trying to silence the others with severe looks. When the chatter eventually died down, Georgiana took another deep breath before plunging head-long into her speech.

"As you all know, my- my brother and his- his new wife will be coming tomorrow at- at two o'clock. I have meet her and- and I know some of you have too. She is very kind and I know she will be a good mistress to all of you. I- I was hoping you- you all would join Mrs.- Mrs. Annesley and myself on the front steps to- to greet them and give them a welcoming that we all know Pemberley deserves."

Georgiana had barely looked up during her speech, preferring to look at her hands which were in danger of being wrung off her arms. The servants looked at one another, many of the older ones concluding that it must mean a lot for the young mistress that she would come down herself and deliver this message when she feared talking to anyone. A tense minute of silence passed for Georgiana and she dearly wished that she had never come down and made such a fool of herself. She was greatly surprised, then, when the hall erupted with applause and cheers.Her eyes flicking up in shock, she beheld a sea of smiling faces applauding and cheering her. Mrs. Reynolds looked at her with tears of joy in her eyes.  
Clasping Georgiana's youthful hand in her two ancient ones, she said,"Of course we shall join you, Mistress, of course we shall."

Georgiana's face broke into a small smile as she still felt sick with nerves. However, knowing her mission had been completed and seeing everyone smiling at her, she was greatly heartened.

"Thank you, thank you all so very much," she said, louder than she ever though she could.  
Blushing and smiling out the door, Georgiana let out the breath held inside her as she leaned against the door. She could not repress a grin. She had done it. She had delivered a speech in front of a hall crowded with servants and she had survived. Mrs. Annesley had been right, as usual. Her confidence was as high as the sky and the servants thought higher of her than they had before. To add to all of that, she had successfully arranged a surprise for her brother and sister. Georgiana Darcy was happier than she could have ever imagined.

* * *

Elizabeth Darcy gazed wearily at the seemingly endless countryside. The novelty of traveling in an open air carriage had worn off early on their first day and she longed to be out of the jolting carriage. She was stiff and dusty from two days of traveling and her clothes looked as if they could not hold anymore dust in them. Such were the realities of traveling in the summer. Glancing over at her husband, she could tell he was just as uncomfortable as she was, though she suspected that she had more of a reason to be. 

He was returning home Pemberley, his home since childhood, his sanctuary. He was the master there and he knew all of its secrets. Yet she felt like she was a stranger going to conquer an unknown land. All sorts of fears would cloud her mind and she would begin to doubt if she was the right person to be mistress of Pemberley. Would the servants be kind or would they think her too inferior to be their mistress? Would she fail at whatever tasks she would have to perform? What of his relatives? Would they all shun her like Lady Catherine said they would? She would not mind much if they did, but the sting would still be there. The small meal she ate for dinner swirled around in her stomach, threatening to come up. She tried concentrating on the people in the village they were passing.

"Elizabeth."

"Yes," she answered, turning to look towards her husband.

"This is the village of Hethercrop. It's ten miles from Lambton."

"Ten miles!" She exclaimed. "Shall we really be at Pemberley so soon?"

"Yes."

She looked away as her stomach started churning faster than ever. Ten miles from Lambton! That was fifteen miles from Pemberley!

"Elizabeth," he called again after they had driven for a few moments.

She turned back to him, not trusting her stomach enough to reply. His eyes were clouded and his brow furrowed. She was perplexed at his face. What could have made him upset?

"You are aware that you can change whatever you wish to at Pemberley. My mother was very fond of red and her rooms were all done up accordingly, but we can easily change it if you wish."

He stopped abruptly and stared at her face which was still wrapped in confusion. She was not sure if she should reply or what to say.

"The gardens are very beautiful, but I'm afraid we are arriving before all the summer flowers are blooming. We could arrange for a section of the gardens to be yours, if you like. You could have whatever you wished planted there."

Again he stopped and watched her face anxiously, however she had figured out the reason for his anxiousness. He was worried she would not be pleased at all with Pemberley

_How absurd,_ she thought. _Who could ever not be pleased with Pemberley? _

"I'm sure the servants will be very kind to you while you get acquainted with Pemberley. But it will not take you long at all, I'm quite confidant of that." He finished with a strained smile that did not reflect confidence at all.

Elizabeth's face lit up with an understanding smile as she leaned over to him.

"I am quite sure that if Pemberley is just the way you have described her, I shall never wish to be anywhere else."

His face relaxed a little and she leaned the rest of the way to comfort him the best way she knew. One of the luxuries of marriage was one they loved to indulge in. They broke apart suddenly when they heard cheers and calls erupting around them. Looking around the carriage, they realized that they were in the middle of Lambton and the villagers were smiling and laughing at them. Both of them blushed and Elizabeth saw John quickly turn toward the front, but he was not quick enough to hide his smile.

_Now what will they think of me?_ Elizabeth groaned in her head.

Mr. Darcy glanced at her with a sheepish look and the rest of their ride to Pemberley was silent. When they entered the drive, Elizabeth felt her stomach twinge with the familiar nauseous sensation. Her hands began to sweat in her gloves and her whole body became cold. The majestic sight of the lake only made her chest clench tighter and the nauseous sensation increased unfairly. Mr. Darcy caught sight of her pale face and held her hand comfortingly.

"Don't worry, Elizabeth, you will be fine," he whispered into her ear before giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

Suddenly the road turned and there were only a few yards separating her from Pemberley. However, in all of her imaginings of this moment, she had never imagined what she actually saw. Standing on the steps were rows and rows of uniformed servants smiling and waving at them, though some where whispering and giggling from what she could see. Stretching in front of them was a whole line of their children standing on tip-toe to try and get a glimpse of her. In front of all of them were three ladies that stood out against the rows of uniform. Georgiana stood foremost looking just like a flower in her rose-colored gown that was fluttering around her. She was waving her hand and was stepping closer to their carriage. Mrs. Annesley stood behind her in dark red and was gently waving with a happy smile playing on her lips. Next to her was Mrs. Reynolds clothed in her best dress of navy blue. A bright white handkerchief fluttered in the breeze in each of their hands. Elizabeth smiled broadly and traitorous tears started forming in her eyes. She could not imagine a welcome such as this.

"Have you kept this all secret from me?" She asked her husband.

"No, I am just as surprised as you," he replied genuinely, looking just as astounded and perhaps just as uncomfortable as she.

The carriage jerked to a stop right in front of the steps and John jumped down to hand Elizabeth out of the carriage. She took his hand and stepped down as her husband got out and appeared next to her. Georgiana stood in front of her with a smile threatening to split her young face and her hands clenched together and strangling her handkerchief.

"Oh, Elizabeth! I get my sister at last," she said as she rushed forward to unceremoniously embrace her sister.

"Georgiana!" Elizabeth exclaimed, taken aback at Georgiana's actions.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry," she apologized, springing back instantly in embarrassment. She stood there mentally scolding herself for losing all propriety.

"Georgiana," Elizabeth said in a slightly amused voice. "I was just surprised. You are normally much more reserved."

"I-I see," she replied, retreating back into her comforting shell of shyness.

"Come, we are family now and I am no Lady Catherine. Let propriety rest for awhile," Elizabeth concluded as she embraced her new sister again.

Stepping back, she received a courteous greeting from Mrs. Annesley. Mrs. Reynolds came forward with a face stained with tears of happiness.

"We all welcome you to Pemberley, Mrs. Darcy," she said with a deep bow. Standing up again, she presented Elizabeth with a master key looped on a white satin ribbon.

"Thank you, thank you very much, Mrs. Reynolds," Elizabeth said as she took the intricately carved key from her. "To whom do I thank for such a wonderful welcome?"

"Mistress Georgiana, Madam," Mrs. Reynolds replied.

"Georgiana!" Elizabeth exclaimed again. The girl in question had blushed a magnificent shade of red under the stunned gaze of both her brother and sister. "Georgiana," Elizabeth continued, walking over to her. "You arranged all this?"

"Yes, I-I did. I thought it would make such a lovely surprise," she replied in defense.

"You are so thoughtful Georgiana, I do not know if I shall ever be able to stop embracing you," Elizabeth exclaimed again, awed at the kindness in her new sister.

Though the whole display was touching, and his dearest wish was coming true, Mr. Darcy was getting quite impatient. If they kept going on like this, he would never be able to get his bride into Pemberley! Signaling to Mrs. Reynolds, the kind housekeeper came forward to offer to introduce Elizabeth to all the servants. Unfortunately, that was not exactly what the master of Pemberley had been expecting. Elizabeth gazed in front of her and found it hard to believe she had forgotten that they were there. However they were all smiling and eager to meet her. Half an hour later, with a variety of names and faces swirling around in her head, Elizabeth was at last able to enter Pemberley on the arm of her husband. So impatient was he to get inside his sanctuary that they nearly ran their way down the walk with Georgiana close on their heels and the mass of servants trailing behind.

Stepping inside the entrance hall, a feeling of total insignificance descended on Elizabeth. The vaulted ceiling rose high above her head and the walls were covered with severe looking portraits that seemed to dare one to commit any crime under their watchful glares. An ancient looking tapestry lined one of the walls and a grand stone staircase rose from the middle. It curved into a wide corridor that disappeared behind two scarlet curtains. A jolting thought seemed to echo down from the rafters. She, little insignificant Elizabeth, was mistress over all of this. Her body gave an involuntary shudder.

"A bit imposing, is it not?" Her husband asked kindly. "Shall we give you the grand tour first or show you your rooms?"

"Do we have enough time for a tour?" She asked, doubting whether anyone would be able to see all of Pemberley in half an afternoon.

"My dear," Mr. Darcy smiled. "Now we have all the time in the world."

* * *

_Alrighty, let's play a new interactive game called lets help the author! I am at a loss of what Elizabeth should call Darcy. Should it be William, Fitzwilliam, or just Darcy (my brother's idea, personally I prefer one of the first two)? Please review and let me know, because I'm really not sure. Next chapter we get to visit our favorite Mrs. Bennet!_


	4. Madness as Usual

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed and took part in my poll. You'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out which name won! I know this is a very quick update, so I warn you not to get used to it. :)_

_Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, the brilliant Jane Austen does._

**Madness as Usual**

No matter what time of day, his wife would always be talking, he mused as he hurriedly dressed. But years of practice allowed him to dress quickly and make it appear as if he were paying attention while he was pursuing happier thoughts in his head. Though nowadays happy thoughts did not come often. Rapidly throwing on his shoes, he made for the door to reach the sanctuary of his library.

"Mr. Bennet!" His wife cried shrilly, making his face cringe. There were many times when he could not find her monologues amusing and early morning was one of those times.

"What is it, my dear?" He asked politely.

"Oh, Mr. Bennet! Where are you off to in such a hurry? You have not heard the end of my visit to Mrs. Lucas!"

"Quite frankly, my dear, I have no wish to hear it."

Mrs. Bennet sat there stunned for a minute before her usual oblivious nature returned. "Oh, you are just teasing me, Mr. Bennet! So, I was just about to tell Mrs. Lucas the wonderful news about Lydia-"

"I am quite sorry to interrupt you, but I have urgent business waiting for me."

"Oh, I see," Mrs. Bennet replied looking a little hurt, but suddenly brightening. "No matter, I shall finish my story later."

"I cannot wait," he said dryly, his sarcasm lost on his wife.

Climbing down the stairs, he peeked into the morning-room where his two remaining daughters were sitting. Mary was studiously reading a thick book while Kitty was yawning and starting to work on her latest bonnet.

"Good morning, girls," He said cheerfully.

"Good morning, Papa," came mumbled back.

His face fell unnoticed by anyone as he made his return to his sanctuary. He remembered two startling different daughters who would have stood up with smiles on their faces and given him a kiss before returning to whatever they were doing. Of course, sometimes Lizzy would follow him into his library to talk or look at the paper which now lay unopened for him on his desk. He shook his head and forced himself to stop wishing for what he could not have. He should be happy and grateful that his favorite daughter had found a husband that she loved. Still, he thought selfishly, why should he have to suffer for it.

Opening the paper, he tried to immerse himself in the price of flour which had again risen. But his traitorous mind kept leading his thoughts back to his two favorite daughters.

"This is madness!" He said in frustration, slamming the paper down on the table. His head rested in his hands as he stared glumly at the empty grate.

He remembered, as he stared, how just two weeks ago he stood there burning a letter from his first son-in-law. The ruffian was asking for money for his wife for her condition. He had written back saying that although he had sympathy for his daughter, he did not have any money to spare. Afterward, he had burned the letter with its mocking hand in the very same grate that he looked at now. All of a sudden he started and a slow smile crept across his face. A letter. He still could not believe his stupidity even as he hunted for some clean paper and his new pen. Then again, he was never much of a letter writer. He was finally ready to write when the door opened and the maid announced breakfast. Glancing unhappily at his unwritten letter, he reluctantly left for breakfast since he knew nothing would be accomplished on an empty stomach.

The dining room showed him that his wife and remaining daughters had already started to eat without bothering to wait for him.

"We are most sorry for starting without you, Papa, but the meal was beginning to become cold," Mary said practically as she helped herself to a plate of steaming bacon.

"I see," her father replied sagely as he sat down.

"Mr. Bennet, do you know what is happening tomorrow? I am shocked that I forget to tell you already! Dear Jane is coming home! We should visit her in the afternoon. Imagine being away from her family a full four weeks! We can wait at my dear sister Phillips' house since all the carriages have to pass it to get through town. Though we shall probably have to wait an hour or so before actually arriving at their house. You have no need for the horses tomorrow, do you Mr. Bennet? Of course you would not. Oh, I cannot wait to see dear Jane. I always knew those two would be happy, always. I never doubted either of them for a second."

As Mrs. Bennet paused briefly for air and some eggs, Mr. Bennet took his opportunity.

"My dear, though I also long to see Jane, consider waiting for an invitation or at least a few days. They will be traveling from London and no doubt very tired."

"Yes, they will not want to be bothered by us and will prefer their own company in solitude to a horde of guests," Mary began wisely.

Kitty rolled her eyes as she knew Mary would soon launch into some sermon or another. Honestly, she mused, Mary should go into the church, she makes a perfect reverend. Of course, the vision of Mary in preacher's robes and powdered wig and dolefully delivering her sermon was found very amusing by Kitty. So amusing that she was engulfed by uncontrollable giggles. Mary looked at her with an expression of contempt at interrupting her lecture which only caused Kitty to laugh harder.

"Kitty, have some compassion for my nerves!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed from her end of the table. "I might as well just drop down dead right this minute for all the attention anyone pays to me. My nerves, my poor nerves, they get more unbearable everyday and all you every do is make them worse! And poor Jane, her father not even willing to see her after so long though I try to persuade him. Then even she will not take us when the Collinses come and throw us out of this house!"

"Mrs. Bennet, I assure you we all have the greatest care for you nerves. As for Jane, I would dearly wish to see her, but it is not right to go banging into their house just moments after they arrive!"

"Mr. Bennet!" She sputtered, preparing to begin another chapter in "The Woes of the Most Honorable Mrs. Bennet".

"I am returning to my library," he said curtly before his wife could start. "And I do not wish to be disturbed unless someone is dying."

Marching away from the table, he caught Mrs. Bennet's startled looks and Kitty's alarmed face. Mary, however, seemed not to have noticed the argument that had just taken place. Shaking his head, he continued to his sanctuary and poured himself a nice glass of brandy.

"Look at what you have done, Lizzy," he said into the silent room. "I am resorting to brandy, of all things, for company."

Taking a sip for good measure, he settled down to begin the task of writing. After a quarter of an hour of work, the letter read.

_My dear daughter Lizzy,_

He stared unbelieving at the clocking ticking resolutely on the mantle pieceSurely it could not be this difficult to write to his favorite daughter. Should he have met her that day in person, he would not have been able to part form her. Now that he sat ready, all of his thoughts seemed to have disappeared to be replaced by a blank wall.

_I must be getting old_, he thought unhappily.

* * *

"There is nothing to do around here anymore," Kitty griped to her sister who was annoyed at being disturbed from her book. "I wish another regiment would come. Perhaps then I could find a husband like Lydia. Though I would never do anything so scandalous as elope."

"_I _think that it would be better for you to improve your mind by reading than fretting over a silly regiment," Mary stated with enough pompousness to rival Mr. Collins. "That new book that came from the traveling library is very interesting."

"You cannot mean Lessons for the Modern Bride?" Kitty asked scandalized.

"The very same," Mary replied, oblivious. "If you are so concerned about getting a husband, you should learn the proper behavior for every young bride."

Kitty felt that she should scream if she were to be confined with her sister for much longer. Tilting her head to one side, she read the name of the book that had Mary so enthralled. She made a disgusted sound as she read Lord Scott's Lectures: Practical Advice for Young Women. What would some stuffy old Lord know about young women, she thought scornfully. Kitty glumly returned to her bonnet which was refusing to allow a new blue ribbon to be sewed onto it. All too soon, the whirlwind that was Mrs. Bennet blew into the room.

"There you are, my dears!" She exclaimed in happiness, waving a piece of paper to them. "Lydia has written again, see for yourself! I am so happy for her, my dear, dear girl. The first to marry and the first to be with child. Oh, Lord! I fear she will do something silly, surrounded by all those officers up North. I shall write her again and warn her not to ride or stay up late dancing at all those balls. As it is, she should be quite large enough now. Oh, just three months! Three months and I shall be a grandmother! My first grandchild, my first granddaughter! Oh, that I should have lived to see this day!"

Here Mrs. Bennet collapsed into her chair from her frenzy and Kitty dutifully took the letter out of her mother's hand. Mary haughtily marked the page in her lectures before joining Kitty in reading the letter. Trying to decipher Lydia's childish writing, they figured out that she was indeed growing larger every day and believed she felt her daughter, for of course it would be a daughter, kick her that very morning. For once Mrs. Bennet's fears were not unfounded as Lydia wrote that she had no intention of stopping any of her usual pursuits because of her child.

"She will kill her child if she carries on that way," Mary whispered sagely.

"Do not speak of Lydia that way, of course she will not harm her child," Kitty replied through her blind loyalty to her sister. "You are just cross because you have not found a husband."

Mary colored slightly as she replied, "At least I can be content without having crowds of gentlemen around me. As for yourself, you are just spiteful because you are no closer than myself in finding a husband."

Kitty colored brightly in shock and rage. "I am closer to finding a husband than yourself 'fore I am not plain."

A pained look passed briefly over Mary's face before being hidden behind her usual composure. "I have always been aware of that defect, so I have many accomplishments instead, something you do not have. You have no talent and have only youthfulness to recommend yourself."

Kitty knew those facts were true, but to acknowledge them silently to oneself and having another say so to your face were entirely different things.

"The letter, my dears, I wish to see Lydia's letter!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed from her chair, completely unaware of her children's bickering. Indeed, she only had thought for her favorite daughter.

Kitty reacted first and snatched the letter from the table. As she returned the letter to her mother, the latter still had another announcement to make.

"My dears, I wish the both of you would go visit your Aunt Phillips and tell her of Lydia's news. Indeed, I would go myself, oh, but you cannot imagine what it would do to my poor nerves."

"Of course, Mama," Kitty replied, desperate to leave her prison, if only for an afternoon.

"That's my girls," Mrs. Bennet replied with a smile usually reserved for Lydia. "You may leave after dinner and stay as long as you wish. Oh, and do stop at the apothecary and see if he has anything that could help these horrible headaches I have been having."

"Of course, Mama," Kitty repeated.

* * *

Five sheets of paper, half a glass of brandy, and seventeen pen nubs later, Mr. Bennet finally completed his letter to Elizabeth. _Just in time too_, he mused as the clock told him that dinner would be served shortly. _It must be a sort of illness_, he thought, _that I cannot even write easily to my own daughter_. He pushed the thought out of his mind as he wrote the address onto the letter. The clock on the mantle piece chimed just as the maid opened the door to announce dinner.

"Very well, Hannah. Would you please give this letter to John and have him send it through the post?"

"Of course, sir," she replied with a curtsy.

Mr. Bennet set off down the hall to endure another meal with his family. Mary and Kitty, he noticed as he sat, were silent and all he had to do was tune out his wife's endless monologue.

"Mama," Kitty asked. "May I leave for Meryton now? I fear if I delay, I may miss my dear Aunt Phillips."

"Of course, child, off you go," Mrs. Bennet replied, telling her husband for the fifth time why their daughters would be leaving. "Mary, why are you not ready? Surely you are leaving with your sister?"

"No, Mama. I have a new piece of music I wish to learn and-"

"Music? You pound away on that infernal instrument more than is good for you! Go with your sister, perhaps the exercise will bring some color to you. You are so unnaturally pale, nothing at all like Lydia."

Mary left will all the dignity that she could muster after another of her mother's unexpected attacks. She quickly caught up with Kitty as she strolled down the road to Meryton. Neither sister spoke to the other and they soon arrived at their Aunt's house. Mrs. Phillips was very excited to receive her nieces, though Mary was still as studious as ever. As they sat in the parlor, Mary picked up the nearest book while Kitty and Mrs. Phillips sat close to the window. From this vantage point, the two gossips could spot anyone down on the street below since the weather was fine and the windows thrown open. Kitty noted with pride that her aunt treated her more equally now, though she did not realize that she was merely taking over Lydia's old position.

"It is a sorry day for Meryton, my dears," Mrs. Phillips began somberly. "The government has decided that we have fulfilled our civil duty and they shall not post another regiment here for another four years."

"Four years!" Kitty burst out in alarm. "I shall be quite old by then. If only Papa would let me visit Lydia."

"I, for one, am quite glad the regiment is gone," Mary began.

"We are well aware, Mary," Kitty replied with a slight sneer. "Hullo! Who is that man there, dear Aunt? I cannot say I have seen him before."

"The one in the blue coat? He is just a clerk your uncle hired for his business. I believe his name is Mr. Stadbury and he is quite of a marriageable age. A very efficient worker, so your uncle tells me, though such a complete bore. I asked him over to a small dinner party shortly after he arrived and do you know what he did? He refused to sit down to cards and said he preferred a good book instead. Then he sat down, nice as you please, and read some dreadful lectures for the entire evening. My cards were quite ruined as I had hoped he would make a fourth for bridge. I fear I shall have to invite him to most of my parties now that he is in business with your uncle."

"How terrible! He seems so plain anyway. That blue makes him look dreadfully ill," Kitty continued obliviously. "Have you heard about Lydia?"

The pair at the window were easily distracted into another area of thought.

Mary, however, was quite unhappy with this turn of events. She dearly wished to learn more about this Mr. Stadbury.

* * *

_Alright, now comes the plea you always hear, or rather read... Please review!_


	5. A Daily Routine

_Well, another update! Sorry it's a bit of a filler, but I thought a little look at their life would be nice. Oh, and I couldn't refrain from the mention of mythology. I absolutely love mythology! Athena and Artemis all the way! _

_Disclaimer: I still own none of the brilliant characters, unless you would like to count the servants and Mr. Stadbury..._

**A Daily Routine**

Glancing down at the sleeping figure curled up next to him, Fitzwilliam Darcy could still not believe his good fortune. After all those months of useless worry and endless doubts, it was hard to imagine that every day he would wake up and see her lying next to him. All too soon he would have to get up and leave the comfortable bed and she would disappear through the communicating door to her own room. He smiled to himself as he remembered their first night at Pemberley. Through his excitement, he had neglected to inform her of the existence of the secret door. That night, he had gone into her room and unknowingly frightened her out of her wits. At least the bruise from the silver candlestick had been on his arm, he mused. Judging from the amount of golden sunlight streaming through the curtains, he guessed it to be a little after seven. Rolling over away from his wife, he got out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown. He walked over to the washbasin and splashed his face with the shockingly cool water. Leaning against the mantle, he watched his wife slowly wake up.

Elizabeth had started to stir as soon as he had left the bed. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, her eyes cracked open and she stared in annoyance at her husband's bemused expression.

"You are well aware that I hate it when you do that, are you not?" She asked in annoyance.

"Do what?" He replied in mock innocence.

"You know what I am speaking of, Fitzwilliam."

"I am quite sure that I have no idea of what heinous act you are insinuating."

"Watching me while I wake. You know that it annoys me to no end."

"I do believe, that as a husband, particularly your husband, God has given me the right to watch my wife wake up," he continued without hiding his amusement.

Elizabeth gave an angry sigh. She had been quite unprepared for his constant teasing. Although it was less apparent during the day since he made his statements with the air of one commenting on the weather. However, after one month of living with him, she was finally able to appreciate how comical her husband really was.

"As interesting as your thoughts may be, Elizabeth, I am sure that you shall be late for Georgiana if you continue to lie in bed."

"And do you have no interest as to what those thoughts are?"

"Judging by the look on your face, I shall have to say no."

"What a pity. Should I show you then?"

"I doubt that I have much of a choice."

"I always knew I married a clever man," Elizabeth replied as she got out of bed and gave her husband a quick kiss. Then, as sleek as a fox, she went through the communicating door to her room.

Darcy shook his head as his man came in to help him dress. Indeed, he thought, how could he have lived without her.

* * *

Elizabeth entered her room just as her maid, Maggie, came in through the main door.

"Good morning, Madam," Maggie greeted with a curtsy.

"Good morning, Maggie," Elizabeth replied cheerfully.

"Did you sleep well last night, Madam?" Maggie asked as they moved over to the mirror between the wardrobe and the vanity. "You are awake so very early this morning."

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, I did sleep well, but I am afraid my husband is forcing me to be an early riser like himself."

"If I am not too bold, but I personally feel that rising late wastes the day," Maggie stated hesitantly.

Elizabeth laughed brightly again. "Do not worry, Miss Maggie. I do not mind boldness as I am quite bold myself."

Maggie smiled. "What shall we be wearing today, Madam?" She asked, opening the large wardrobe.

Elizabeth scrutinized its contents for a few minutes before deciding on a pink cotton dress as the day promised to be quite hot. She chatted pleasantly with Maggie as she helped her put the dress on. Maggie was a pretty girl of sixteen who had lived at Pemberley her entire life since her mother was one of the housemaids. Though she had been quite afraid of being the personal maid to the new mistress, Maggie considered herself very fortunate to have received such a kind hearted one. After quickly putting up her mistress's hair simply as instructed, she stepped back to get a bonnet.

"I had nearly forgotten about the bonnet," Elizabeth stated a little glumly. "It can be quite a nuisance sometimes and it is near impossible to see everything with it on."

"You are quite right mistress, but you would not like to lose your beautiful complexion," Maggie replied as she fixed the bonnet on Elizabeth's head.

"True," Elizabeth replied as she tied the strings herself. "Thank you kindly, Maggie. I must go and see Georgiana, perhaps I might even be down before her."

"Then you will frighten her, Madam," Maggie teased as she bent down to tidy up the room.

"Perhaps I shall," Elizabeth replied as she went out the door. She heard a door quietly shut down the hall and she guessed that Georgiana had only just left her room. Walking quickly, yet quietly, she soon came behind Georgiana who was humming a cheerful tune under her breath.

"Good morning, Georgiana," Elizabeth greeted brightly, causing the unsuspecting girl in front of her gasp.

Georgiana whirled around to face her. "Elizabeth!" She exclaimed in surprise. "What a cruel trick to play. I was not expecting your for another fifteen minutes at least!"

"I am quite sorry and you shall have to blame your admirable brother. He is the one that is insisting on me being an early riser."

"Or perhaps you should not frighten me so when you come across me in the hall," Georgiana countered as they walked down the grand staircase. They could see Francis Yates, the butler, and Robert, one of the boys, waiting in the entrance hall. The maid had just finished opening the curtains and scurried out into the dining room to finish her duties. Both Francis and Robert bowed as they reached the bottom step.

"Good morning, Madam, Miss," Francis greeted in his usual grave manner. "Will you be taking your usual walk this morning?"

"Yes, Francis," Elizabeth replied.

"Then I shall have the gong rung when breakfast is ready."

"Thank you, Francis," Elizabeth said as she and Georgiana walked outside. They took the roundabout way towards the gardens and Elizabeth could already feel the sun pricking through her bonnet. The grass and flowers were dancing in the slight breeze and birds were singing over their heads. They passed a few gardeners who were already outside and weeding. These walks were a new part of the routine at Pemberley. They had decided that Georgiana would show Elizabeth the gardens every morning before breakfast while Darcy began his work in his study. So far, Elizabeth had seen most of the gardens and had already found her favorite walk.

"Where are you taking me today, Georgiana?"

"Just passed that lane to a little courtyard. It is in need of some work, but the gardeners have been busy with the main gardens for some time. I have thought about it often, but I know not what to do to it to improve it."

"Then perhaps we can work on it together after we are done with these walks."

"Oh, that would be delightful."

They soon entered the little courtyard and Elizabeth was speechless at first. In the center was an elegant fountain that had many pictures of wolves, flowers, arrows, and numerous other things on its base. Rising from the center was a statue of Diana in her hunting garb reaching into her quiver of arrows to string the bow that was hanging at her side. The tall bushes that surrounded the area completely hid the courtyard from the house. An old stone pathway wound around the fountain and led to two peeling benches seated behind it. Withered and dead plants littered the ground and grass was poking out of the missing sections of the pathway. Elizabeth felt as if she had been moved to another realm away from Pemberley.

Georgiana smiled as she watched Elizabeth. "I was just as awestruck as yourself when I first saw it," she said, bringing Elizabeth back to the present.

"It is beautiful Georgiana, absolutely beautiful. Why has no one done anything to it?"

"Well, the main gardens need much work and the public are allowed to see them, so they need to be kept perfect. This little courtyard is out of the way and I believe most have forgotten of its existence."

"What a shame. You and I shall fix it up," Elizabeth declared resolutely. "It will not take much work and th-"

The booming gong rang out and they grudgingly returned to the house. Seated at the table, Elizabeth earnestly told her husband of their findings and of her future plans. He confessed that he himself had forgotten about it, but had no objection to them fixing it up. After breakfast they all departed to their separate rooms. Darcy retreated to his study to finish his business and meet with his agent, Johnathan Davies. Georgiana went to her music room to practice her music and keep up with her French and Italian. Elizabeth followed Georgiana to her own study.

Elizabeth had found her study on her first day at Pemberley. It was room in the corner of the house and decorated with a unique turquoise color. Her favorite cherry furniture was already in the room and a writing desk was quickly added. A few vases were strewn about the room and constantly filled with fresh flowers from the gardens. The windows commanded a stunning view of the lake and the forest the raced behind it. The room was connected to both the morning room where early guests were entertained and the music room where she could easily listen to Georgiana.

Elizabeth sat at her writing desk and Susan presently entered with the mail and the daily menu. After checking the menu to see that it was pleasing and changing anything that was not, she returned it to Susan who would take it down to Harriet Cox, the cook. It had taken Elizabeth awhile to acquaint herself with the fancy dishes she never heard about or been accustomed to having at Longbourn. With that task done, she turned to her letters. One was the bill from the woman in London who had made many new clothes for her. She had not believed the amount of money she was able to spend, but her husband had assured her that it was well within their means. She wrote back to the woman, who also made Georgiana's clothes, that she would send the money the next time they were in London. The next letter was from Kitty who wrote that she would be arriving in a weeks time on the stagecoach. She also hoped that a carriage would be there to pick her up from the village. Elizabeth smiled and wrote a note to herself to remind Gregory, the driver, that he would be needed that day.

The last note was from her father. She had been appalled at herself when she had received his first letter. It had been inexcusable to have forgotten him as she had done and she quickly replied with a long letter in returned. As she read his letter, she found that he had lost the rigid formality of his first letter and wrote more easily. He complained a little of Longbourn, but had to admit that Mary was becoming more sociable, though it was only because her mother constantly visited her gossiping friends. Kitty, he said, was truly excited to see her sister at Pemberley and that both her and her mother could speak of nothing else. However, he stilled implored Elizabeth to instill some sense into her younger sister. Reading the rest of his letter, she could tell that though he barely wrote anything about it, he was quite concerned that she was completely happy.

Elizabeth quickly wrote another long reply and hoped to dismiss his fears. Soon after she was done, Susan returned to announce dinner. She walked into the room with Georgiana and was a bit surprised to see Johnathan Davies sitting there and talking to her husband. Darcy looked up and smiled as he saw them.

"There they are," he said in a form of greeting. He noticed Elizabeth's surprised glance at his guest. "I invited Johnathan to stay for dinner. He wanted to take me down to the orchards and fields and I wondered in you ladies would like to join me."

"That sounds delightful," Elizabeth replied while Georgiana mutely nodded her assent. "How far are the orchards from here?"

"A little over a mile by the road, though the fields are over three miles," Johnathan promptly answered. "You shall be in great luck, for you shall have the last of the raspberries until September. The second harvest might come early this year as the first one came up early."

All too soon, the gentlemen were involved in a topic universally abhorred by women: business. Elizabeth and Georgiana occupied their time by discussing their mornings and some plans for their special courtyard. When dinner was over, they all climbed into their favorite open-air carriage and set off towards the orchards, with the men still involved in business.

The drive was pleasant and Elizabeth was constantly twisting and turning so that she would not miss a thing. They soon arrived at the orchard and they all departed from their carriage. Elizabeth watched the workers climb nimbly up the rickety wooden ladders to check the fruit that was nestled in the trees. Johnathan was droning on about each type of fruit and the harvest they were expecting provided there was no drought. The men set off down the rows and Georgiana took Elizabeth over to where the berries grew.

They plucked a few of the sweet berries from the bushes and chatted a bit while they waited for the men to return. Some of the workers acknowledged their presence with a quick bow or tip of the hat before returning to their trees. After a long wait the men finally reappeared and stated that they were now going off to inspect the fields. Elizabeth politely dismissed herself and Georgiana saying that they would prefer to walk back from the orchard. The men, after exchanging smug smiles, agreed and they set off on their separate ways.

* * *

Johnathan had left when they had returned and the three Darcy's sat down for dinner.

"Did you find the drive as exciting as you expected?" Darcy asked, trying to hid his amused voice.

"No, it was intolerably boring, as you are well aware," Elizabeth replied, starting to tease him. "One would think you thought of nothing but business all day."

"I will not deny it. There are few things that capture my attention these days. Mainly just business and my library," he replied nonchalantly, though his eyes betrayed a different sentiment.

"I'm quite sure," Elizabeth said dryly before changing the subject. "Kitty wrote today and said that she would be arriving in a week's time."

Elizabeth could see her husband's face harden at the news. "How fortunate," he replied, trying to mask how much he loathed the visit.

"What is she like, Elizabeth?" Georgiana asked with honest curiosity. "Does she play?"

"No," Elizabeth replied while realizing that Kitty did not possess any accomplishments.

After dinner, they retired to the drawing room and Georgiana entertained them with a few of her favorite songs. Elizabeth marveled at the purity and innocence that filled her voice. No matter how often she heard her sing, Elizabeth was always bewitched by Georgiana's performance. Of course, after Georgiana was finished, both her and her brother would plead, tease, and threaten Elizabeth into playing too. As he sat there basking in the beauty of his wife, Darcy wondered how he had managed to be so fortunate. There he was, sitting in the comfort of his own familiar home in the presence of the two most wonderful women in the world.

* * *

_Ha ha, me again! Next chapter... Kitty! gasp dun... Dun... DUNNN! falls over and faints_


	6. An Infamous Arrival

_I'm back again! Sorry for the huge delay in updating, but school and marching band started and my life has been very busy. I cannot promise for a speedy update after this, but I can promise that they will become more frequent starting in November. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it was so difficult to write suprisingly. Kitty, along with Mary, is one of those characters that is not described in much detail in Pride and Prejudice. But know that all chapters serve a purpose!_

_Discalimer: Blah blah Jane Austen's blah blah not mine blah blah_

**An InfamousArrival**

Kitty stared anxiously out the window of the carriage with her usual cross look and her fingers drumming on the soft cushion. The days of travel had been exceedingly boring and she longed to be able to talk to someone. Traveling in the stagecoach had at least been tolerable since she was able to listen to people, but this ride in the carriage was dreadfully dull. The only thing to listen too was the creaking of the carriage and an occasional yell from the driver. She caught sight of a beautiful lake and wondered how much longer she still had to wait. Within a few minutes, the carriage stopped outside a gigantic stone building that left Kitty gaping in awe.

"Welcome to Pemberley, Miss Bennet," John, the footman, greeted with a bow as he opened the carriage door.

Kitty stepped down and her head gazed vertically up at her sister's home. She had imagined Pemberley to be more like Netherfield, not the huge, intimidating monster that it was. John coughed politely next to her and motioned for her to follow him inside. Once she was standing in the imposing entrance hall, her power of speech seemed to have left her. The stern portraits seemed to be staring at her and it was all so deathly quiet.

"Good evening," a cheerful voice greeted from behind her.

Kitty spun around to find a kindly old woman watching her.

"I am Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper," the woman continued. "Are you Miss Catherine Bennet?"

Kitty nodded, her voice still temporarily out of service.

"Very good," Mrs. Reynolds said kindly. "Would you like to see your room and change? The Darcy's are at tea at the moment."

Kitty nodded again and Mrs. Reynolds led her up the large staircase to her room. A timid maid was already waiting there to asisst her. She could not believe that such a splendid and luxurious room would be hers. Kitty quickly changed out of her filthy traveling clothes while silently lamenting that she had none of the finery that she knew her sister now posessed. Once she was finished, she eagerly followed the maid to where her sister was. She was led to the terrace right outside the elegant drawing room. Mr. Darcy's back was to her and she could easily see Lizzy's face on the opposite end of the circular table. Another woman was seated between them and they seemed to be discussing something out in the garden since they repeatedly gestured toward it.

The maid cleared her throat and announced, "Miss Catherine Bennet has arrived, Madam."  
All their faces turned in her direction and stared at Kitty. Elizabeth stood up and walked over to quickly embrace her sister.

"Good evening, Kitty," she greeted. "We were not expecting you until late this evening."

"The coach was not very full today," Kitty replied while still looking anxiously at the other two sitting at the table. Elizabeth expertly followed her gaze.

"This is Miss Georgiana Darcy. I do not believe you have meet." Kitty shook her head in dissent. "And Mr. Darcy."

Georgiana had stood up and curtsyed while Mr. Darcy merely nodded his head. Kitty felt her old fear of this haughty man returning. She followed Elizabeth to the table and only had to wait a minute before another chair was brought out and a place at the table set for her. Kitty eagerly dove into the plates of delicious cakes since she had not eaten properly on her trip. Elizabeth resumed her conversation with Georgiana and it was quite awhile before Kitty was properly listening. They were talking of some area in the garden they were improving, occasionally asking the opinion of the somber man next to her. Mr. Darcy, she noticed, was gazing out at the lake and seemed to be paying little attention to the conversation. Kitty continued to wonder why her sister had married this man. Of course ten-thousand pounds were lovely things, but they were not worth it if the owner of them was so intolerable. To add to that, he did not have regimentals, though she was beginning to think well of the non-military men of Meryton. At least his sister, whom she expected to be dressed in rich silks and quite aloof, did not seem so distant.

"How was your trip, Kitty?" Elizabeth asked, aware of her sister following the coversation.

"Quite boring, " complained Kitty, whose voice seemed to have reappeared after being healed by food and drink. "The stage coach was tolerable, 'fore I could at least listen to the conversation. Of course it was frightfully cramped and this horrible old woman would not be satisfied and grumbled the entire way. Then this stuffy man fell asleep and snored so loudly I could barely hear myself think! "

"I see," Elizabeth cut in before her sister rambled on the enitre evening. "How were Bingley and Jane? Did you visit them?"

Here Kitty made a disgusted face. "Mama insisted on visiting nearly every day. I managed to get away a few times and went to visit Maria Lucas instead. Did you know that she's being courted by this man in the village? He's not handsome at all, but he owns one of the shops. Oh, I cannot remember what it's called..."

"How were Bingley and Jane?" Elizabeth repeated patiently. "Did they enjoy London?"

"They were in tolerable health, though London did not agree with Jane very much," Kitty replied uninterestingly, unaware of Georgiana's slighty appalled looks or the rigid blankness of Mr. Darcy's face. "They said London was pleasant, though I don't see how since they had to visit with his sister who had been in Hertfordshire. Did you hear the horrible news about Meryton?"

"No, I did not," Elizabeth replied politely, thoughdoubting thatshe really wanted to hear it.

"There are to be no more regiments placed there and Papa still refuses to let me visit Lydia!" Kitty exclaimed bitterly, still oblivious to the sudden hardening of Mr. Darcy's features and the frightened glance Georgiana gave her brother.

Elizabeth, however, did notice and decided that a change of subject was necessary. "I have not heard from Papa. How is our Father and Mother?"

"Papa is fine, I suppose. We only see him for meals since he spends the whole day in his library," Kitty replied, helping herself to another piece of cake. "Mama swears she will die of her nerves and is always cross with me. She always sends me out to run her errands, but lately Mary has taken to doing them for her. I cannot imagine why, it is so frightfully dull, but at least I do not have to do it."

Georgiana could not help staring at this girl who was so different from anyone she had met. She seemed not to know the meaning of the word discreet and could talk so continously and fluently. Staring between the two sisters, she found it quite hard to beleive that they were related. Darcy continued to resolutely stare at the lake, keeping his gaze away from the foolish girl. Aside from his face, the only other sign of his discomfort was the whiteness of his knuckles as they gripped his cup.

"Did you hear about the Collinses?" Kitty asked, continuing before Elizabeth had even replied. "She had a daughter a little while ago. Mr. Lucas practically ran over when he recieved the news. But did you know, the doctor said she shan't have anymore children and Mr. Collins was quite upset. But that is not the worst of it. Can you imagined what they named her? Wilhemnia Catherine Collins after himself and Lady Catherine! The poor child, she will be much ridiculed."

Elizabeth was shocked, both at the news and Kitty's manner of delivering it. She thought that time away from Lydia's influence would have helped cure her sister, but she seemed even more of a relentless gossip than before. Only then did Elizabeth remember that her sister had been spending much of her time with their Aunt Phillips who was about the largest gossip in Meryton. She noticed that her husband's mouth had twitched slightly at the news Kitty had delivered and she was still unable to believe Mr. Collins's vainity.

"I understand you do not play, Miss Bennet," Georgiana ventured fearfully, valiantly trying to combat the awkward silence that had descended.

"No, I do not. Only Lizzy and Mary do. Do you?" Kitty asked politely, though her tone clearly showed that she would have been just as interested in a lecture.

"Yes, I play. Do you draw or dance?" Georgiana persisted, though still a bit timid and doubting whether there was much to gain by trying to lose her shyness.

"I do not draw, but I love to dance!" Kitty exclaimed, her face lighting up at once. "Do you have very many balls here? It is more than quite large enough, I'm sure. Have you had a ball yet, Lizzy? Brides always have a ball in honor of them. I hope Jane does not have hers while I'm away."

"No, Kitty, I have not had a ball," Elizabeth explained patiently. "We do not entertain very often."

Kitty's mouth was open in horror. "You do not entertain? Then what do you _do_?"

"We entertain ourselves," Elizabeth replied, barely succeeding in hiding her smile.

Kitty was still trying to grasp this horrifying prospect. She had thought that with her sister's higher position, she would be attending many balls and parties. Staring at her sister, she begged with eyes that someone would tell her that they were all jesting. But unfortunately for Kitty, no one did.

At this moment, Darcy, tired of sitting and listening to foolish nonsense, stood up and stated his wish for taking a walk. Elizabeth immediately agreed.

"Would you like a tour of the house or of the gardens, Kitty?" She asked kindly.

"I would much rather see the house."

"Perhaps tomorrow we could all ride out and give her a complete tour of the grounds," Georgiana volunteered hesitantly.

"Kitty and I both do not ride," Elizabeth gently reminded her, though she still blushed in misery.

"I- I forgot. It- it just s-s-seems odd-"

"Because Pemberley breeds some of the best horses in England," Elizabeth offered kindly to a greatful Georgiana. "We shall just have to settle for a tour on foot. I was never much fond of horses."  
"I'm quite sure they would dearly love to know why," Kitty began mischieviously, ignoring the warning glare given by her older sister. "When Lizzy was about, oh twelve wasn't it, she was riding this monstrous wild thing that wasn't properly broken. Anyway, he became frightened and tried to throw her off, but her foot was caught and she was dragged through a muddy field all the way to the stables. Nearly took her head off and the doctor said it was a miracle that she lived. She was stuck in bed for the rest of the summer until her arm set properly. She would never go near a horse again. Lord, did Lydia and I laugh when we saw you! Mama was in fits."

Darcy's mouth was twitching dangerously and his eyes were lit up with an amused light. Georgiana was not sure whether she should laugh or not and had to resort to a polite cough. Lizzy, however, was shooting daggers at her sister who seemed impervious to her gaze.

"Why do you not ride, Miss Bennet?" Georgiana asked, hoping to hear another fine tale.

"I could not be bothered, it was much more fun to walk," she replied dismissively. "And do call me Kitty, everyone does. It is so odd to hear myself called 'Miss Bennet'."

"Very well, so long a-as you call me Georgiana," she replied, eager to not appear uncivil.

"Agreed."

Mr. Darcy led his wife into the drawing room, leaving the two girls beginning to engage in a rather one-sided conversation. Elizabeth was not amused by the smirk on his face.

"You are not about to let me forget that incident, are you?" She asked accusingly, already knowing the answer.

"Not in the slightest," he replied with a small grin.

* * *

_I shall not insult your intelligence by making the usual plea, though it does not mean the that the plea is not implied. _

_Now a break from the usual, generalized review responses! (Do not feel obliged to read this if you'd rather not)_

_Mr. Davies was added on a whim, but he doesn't serve any purpose at the moment, but that doesn't mean that his importance can't change. Yes, there is indeed a love interest for Mary, but it will not be a main focus. Alright, I have a confession to make. I had to read _**Rebecca**_ for school and therefore I did steal- borrow, borrow ideas from it. I didn't realize so many had to read that book. As for the plea regarding how Lizzy should find out about her pregnancy, who says she will be pregnant? -watches amusedly as jaws drop- I'll not say yea or nay to that statement, but the answer will not be seen for a long while yet. _

_Oh, and a clocking, other than being a typo, is a clockthat says "ing" instead of "tock". ;)_


	7. Of Letters and Forgotten Pride

_First of all, I'm EXTREMELY, UTTERLY, and COMPLETELY SORRY that it has taken me so long to update. Marching band has ended so much of my life has returned, or ended, depending on how you want to think about it. In any event, I will update more rapidly now and I thank all of you for being so patient. If I had rum and posters of Colin Firth as Darcy, beleive me you would all get some. Unfortunately I don't, but at least I do have this chapter which is longer than usual for all of your patience._

_Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, except for a few servants. The letter from Lydia is also Jane Austens except for the half-sentence that I added for my own purposes. Is half-sentence even a word…_

**Of Letters and Forgotten Pride**

Throughout the following weeks, Kitty and Pemberley became very acquainted. Kitty learned the names of many of the servants and joined Elizabeth and Georgiana in their daily walks. Though Kitty and Georgiana's acquaintance began haltingly due to many situations, which only variations of dispositions can raise, the base for it seemed to have formed after an eventful day a good fortnight after Kitty arrived.

Georgiana and Kitty, after a long and mainly one-sided discussion of dances, learned that they each knew a dance that the other did not. After coercing Elizabeth to play for them, they held an impromptu dance lesson in the music room. Georgiana taught Kitty an elegant waltz that delighted her so much that she would often be caught waltzing through the hallways. Kitty, in turn, taught Georgiana a lively reel that had the both of them gasping for breath at the end of it. Elizabeth, both impressed and amused, added to the hilarity by claiming that she knew something neither of them did. After being persuaded to show them, she began to jig. She was unaware of her husband appearing in the doorway and watching this unladylike display in any woman, but especially in a woman of her rank. When she had ended, with her face flushed from heat, he had entered the room with a faltering mask of disapproval. Unfortunately, when she looked at him so innocently and wondered aloud why the room was so unbearably warm, he could not help but grin. The girls could not restrain their laughter and a new bond seemed to have formed between them all.

Kitty had noticed that her new brother was really not as severe as she had once thought, but she could not seem to lose her old fear of him. Georgiana and Kitty had a unique effect upon each other. Kitty, feeling how loud and awkward her voice was around the quiet Georgiana, lowered her tones, though the quantity and discretion of them were still in the beginning stages of progress. She also complained less as her complaints were met with practical remedies, not sympathy. In turn, Georgiana began to talk a bit more freely, though she was still far from being as fluent as Kitty. Elizabeth knew that all traces of Lydia would not be erased from Kitty, but hoped that, with time, she would lose the forwardness that had ruined her sister.

As July stubbornly moved closer to August, two great events occurred. One was the news that Jane was expecting her first child. The second was the discovery of Kitty's talent.

One day as the girls worked in the music room, Georgiana had been studiously sketching the pianoforte in order to keep her artistic skills sharp. Kitty had greatly admired her drawing and Georgiana quickly persuaded her to try. She reluctantly did so and by dinner had a most impressive sketch. Fairly soon, Elizabeth and Georgiana had convinced Kitty to develop her talent and Georgiana gave her some tips along the way. Although she prefered sketching much more to learning French, she was more interested in pursuing it on her own time rather than as a lesson.

However, as August arrived bringing with it a great heat wave, the petals in their new bed of roses wilted. Elizabeth was sitting at her desk in her study while Georgiana played her pianoforte and Kitty sketched her. It was on this day that Elizabeth received a most disturbing letter.

_"My Dear Lizzy,_

_"I wish you joy. If you love Mr. Darcy half as well as I do my dear Wickham, you must be very happy. It is a great comfort to have you so rich, and when you have nothing else to do, I hope you will think of us," _especially when I am in this condition_. "I am sure Wickham would like a place at court very much, and I do not think we shall have quite money enough to live upon without some help. Any place would do, of about three or four hundred a year: but, however, do not speak to Mr. Darcy about it, if you had rather not. _

_"Your's, etc._

_Lydia"_

Elizabeth was disgusted and knew she had much rather not ask her husband. Tossing the letter to the side, she proceeded to open the letter from Jane, which contained more satisfactory news. Just as she was beginning to write a reply, her husband came into her study looking cheerful. She smiled up at him as he calmly moved a chair to the side of her desk.

"Have you finished early?" She inquired, setting her pen on a scrap piece of paper as he sat down.

"Fortunately, yes," he replied, letting out a sigh of relief. "I can't honestly remember the last time I finished this early."

"You ought to send Mr. Davies to London more often," she teased

"I see that you have not finished with your letters," Mr. Darcy countered in good humor. "I had rather hoped we all might have gone out and enjoyed the fine weather. Will you be long?"

"No, I should not and you need not blackmail me either. I just need to finish my reply to Jane," she replied, picking up her pen again.

"Then I had better go and entertain Georgiana since you will not be finished for another hour at least, " he teased as he stood up.

"Why are you so certain she needs your entertaining?" She replied, a smirk evident on her face as her pen began to swiftly move across the paper. "Her and Kitty have become quite close companions."

"I am her brother, of course she will enjoy my company," he stated, taking pleasure in the enjoyable banter with his wife.

Elizabeth replied with only a disbelieving look as she concentrated on her letter. Mr. Darcy stared around the room for a few minutes and took in the small improvements his wife had made in the light blue room. He noticed the way the furniture matched elegantly, how she commanded a view into both rooms adjacent to her study, and he was caught by the beam of sunlight streaming through the open window that lit up his wife and glinted off the nub of her pen.

"Did Jane have anything of interest to report?" He asked, daring to accost his wife as she wrote.

Elizabeth smirked again and retorted, "Is your friend Bingley so negligent that you can only learn of his doings through his wife's communications?"

"Of course not, I was merely curious," he replied, though he knew Elizabeth was not deceived.

"If you are so keen on learning of your friend, you may read the letter."

"Where is it?"

"On top of that pile there," she answered, gesturing vaguely at her desk.

Darcy picked up the letter and was silent as he pursued it. Elizabeth congratulated herself on being halfway through writing her own letter.

"Is it not exciting that they will have a child?" She stated happily, not looking up from her letter. "Jane wrote that the doctor is quite confident that the child shall be born in January. I could not imagine a more convenient time! We will be able to stay at Netherfield through the holidays and remain until the child arrives."

The only sounds that followed her cheerful statement where the scratching of the pen and the thick, hot wind rustling the curtains. After still receiving no response, she looked curiously up at her husband. Surprise caught hold of her features as she saw his face frozen in a mask of disgust, hatred, and fury. She looked down at her letters, a horrible thought running through her head. One glance was enough to confirm her suspicions. He had mistakenly grabbed the wrong letter and was reading the thoughtless note sent by Lydia.

Elizabeth mentally prepared to explain away this accident, but her thoughts were rudely severed by the frigid voice of her husband.

"Have you written a reply?" He asked, not even caring to keep his voice civil, so disgusted was he at the boldness of Mrs. Wickham.

"No. I have not, nor did I have, any intention of replying," Elizabeth answered, trying to control her annoyance at his offensive tone.

"It seems as though she expected some monetary assistance from you, even without my approval," he continued, his furious eyes still pursuing the letter.

"I would not dream of doing anything of the sort without you approval," she replied honestly getting up from her chair, hoping to mollify him before the misunderstanding grew any larger. "She just sent me that letter and I was not anticipating to make a reply of any sort to it."

"Does she think that our marriage is just a way for free money?" He spat in disgust, willfully ignoring Elizabeth. "Look at this, '_I am sure Wickham would like a place at court very much…'_ Wickham! Does that man never cease to plague me? The nerve of the both of them. He set her up to it, I'm sure. After all the money I have already given them, this is how I am to be repaid!"

"Listen, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth interjected quickly as she rapidly became annoyed and eager to end this mishap. "I will reply to Lydia and inform her that we have no intention of giving them financial aide outside of gifts. Will that be satisfactory?"

Again Darcy ignored her. "What does she mean '_especially when I am in this condition'_?"

"She is with child," Elizabeth replied exasperated. "Why are you taking this letter so much to heart? It is only a foolish note typical of Lydia. I'm quite confident Wickham had nothing to do with it, it is just Lydia being her thoughtless self. With people such as themselves, they will always be exceeding their income and begging for money."

Darcy's eyes narrowed at her and his cold anger seemed to follow. "You still seem to be quite keen on protecting that man," he said with a sneer. "And as I know that bastard better than yourself, I will retain my own opinion of him and your sister."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock and she stopped trying to control her own anger. "You are being completely irrational! You made me aware of his character, but I happen to know my sister and how selfish and inconsiderate she is. This is nothing more than selfishness on their part, how often must I repeat it!"

"So now you are content to defend the insolence of your dear sister and her wonderful husband?" He replied scathingly, his loathing of the man overcoming any other coherent thought.

"Darcy, this is unbelievable! I-"

"Is it not enough that that excuse for a human has stolen my money, tried to steal my sister, and has now gained the protection of his amiable new sister? No, this man is to be forever thrust into my presence, he will not let me be in peace!"

Their voices had risen to shouts and the open doors carried their argument throughout the rooms. Darcy still clutched the letter in his hand and his face was flushed with intense anger. No one would understand the tortures that vile creature had put him through. Yet now the scoundrel was interfering in his personal life, with his wife, and all this in his supposed sanctuary. Elizabeth burned with the injustice of the accusations her husband so easily flung at her. She knew not how to make him see reason and her own temper flared at all of his biased claims.

"He will not rest 'til he has beaten me at everything!" Darcy continued in his pacing rant, hardly noticing or just blatantly ignoring Elizabeth. "He's forced my money on him, forced a connection between us, and has even turned you to his favor. More than that, he is already to be blessed with an heir! Yet, he still desires more money and you are quite content to give it to him! Then by all means," he cried, finally rounding on Elizabeth. "Send as much aide to your precious sister and her worthy husband as you see fit. I shall fill out a check solely for his relief. Better yet, why not just send them a book of checks themselves, then they might help themselves freely to it all. In any case, we are all related are we not?"

Elizabeth blinked back tears of fury and pain. Each insult he threw at her made her wince and felt like a dagger stabbing through her body. "Have you finished insulting me and my family? You ought to have listened to your conscious more before agreeing to marriage because it seems to have been remarkably accurate in warning you of joining yourself with me and my relations. Just name a time and Kitty and I shall be back at Loungbourn where we need not irritate you with our loathsome presence. How could I have been so stupid as to have forgotten about your unbearable pride?" She concluded, more to herself.

"Nor how could I have been so blind as to forget your feelings for that man!" Darcy exclaimed in equal anger. "Or the stout devotion you harbor for your _entire_ family?"

Elizabeth shot him a look of severest pain and disgust. "Of all the things I've ever thought of you, I never dreamed you could be so irrational and cruel!" She cried, unbidden tears falling silently down her face. "Just let us know when we should leave your home. I do not wish to force myself where I am quite obviously not wanted."

With that, Elizabeth ran out of her study, through the music room, and continued until she stopped for breath at the end of a long corridor. She could not contain her sobs and fled to the gardens where the servants would not see her. The sturdy fountain of Diana called to her, the cool water expert relief in the swimming heat.

Georgiana and Kitty sat stunned in the music room having heard the entire argument. They both stared at each other in fright, neither knowing what to do. Elizabeth had run out so quickly looking hurt and upset that she was out of the door before either of them could react. The whole room was tense, waiting and watching the doorway to the study where Darcy still had not moved. After a minute, the frightened girls heard him curse and throw down the letter. The door to the morning room slammed shut and an eerie quiet descended upon them.

"What should we do?" Georgiana asked fearfully from the piano.

"I know not," Kitty replied, still in awe of what had happened.

"Should we find Elizabeth?"

"No," Kitty replied with some confidence. "She would always run away to calm herself. We should just let her be, she will become composed shortly. What of your brother?"

"I do not know," Georgiana said in shock. "I have never seen him so angry before, never."

"Then we should probably leave them be," Kitty declared, a resolution finally made.

The content, joyful mood of just a quarter hour before had vanished. Though neither injured party was there, it seemed to the girls that they still must be solemn for fear one or the other should come in. What was left of the morning passed slowly and eventually the time for dinner arrived.

Georgiana and Kitty descended the stairs nervously, wondering what, if anything, had changed since the morning. Just before they reached the threshold, Annie, one of the maids, accosted them.

"Mrs. Darcy is not with you, Misses?" She asked, her usually cheerful face clouding.

"No, Annie." Georgiana replied with a worried glance to Kitty.

"I see." Annie continued. "Will she be joining you for dinner later?"

"I- I know not, Annie," Georgiana said miserably.

"Very well. Enjoy your meal. Mrs. Cox quite outdid herself today," Annie concluded with a smile before rushing back to the kitchens.

"I am such a fool!" Georgiana moaned. "All the servants shall know about their quarrel within a quarter of an hour."

"But surely it is not uncommon for married people to quarrel, especially when they are newly wed," Kitty reasoned with unthinkable wisdom. "Come we had better eat."

Darcy sat sternly at the table, only acknowledging their presence with a curt nod of his head. Georgiana ate quietly as she was quite afraid of the figure before her. Kitty however, could feel her anger at the injustice of this man to her sister rise. She glared at him from across the table and her expression turned increasingly sour. Had she had enough courage she would have confronted him herself, but her best intentions were useless and he soon left without so much as a word. They quickly finished their dinner and left the dinning room. Standing in the hall, they were posed with the same question as before. What should they do?  
"We ought to go find Elizabeth, especially with this heat." Georgiana said.

"We ought to, but she would never stand for it," Kitty replied. "She is extremely stubborn and will claim she is not fatigued at all."

"But we cannot just leave her out there, we must try something at least!" Georgiana exclaimed.

"It will not help, she shall not be persuaded otherwise, I know her." Kitty repeated pompously. "She will come in on her own, but she will refuse if anyone suggests it to her."

"I wish they would just come to their senses!" Georgiana stated frustrated.

"Perhaps they shall by this evening," Kitty predicted hopefully.

Unfortunately, supper quickly proved Kitty wrong. Elizabeth had returned towards the end of the afternoon exceedingly warm and flushed. She stubbornly waved aside their claims that she was not well and that it was much too hot. Soon after that, it became time to change for supper and they did not see her until then.

As with dinner, Darcy sat alone at the table silently eating while the ladies filtered in. When Georgiana and Kitty arrived, Elizabeth was nowhere in sight. They hesitantly sat and began to serve themselves from the large silver dishes arrayed on the table. Just as they began to eat, Elizabeth entered wearing of her plainest gowns that they had all verbally abused. She put on a smile for the girls, but her fatigue and discomfort at being there were still evident. Sitting down, she chatted almost easily with them. Mainly she spoke with Kitty, as Georgiana was still much too afraid to do anything that might trigger more anger.

Within a few minutes of Elizabeth sitting down, Darcy silently left the table. She pretended not to notice, but the look of pain was still caught by the girls. They chatted on about the garden and Jane and anything but the one thing that was pressing on all of their minds.

Afterward, they retired to the summer parlor that opened onto a terrace. The humid air crawled through the open door, settling on everything. Georgiana absently fingered the piano while Elizabeth picked up a piece of embroidery. Kitty began a sketch of the newest plan for the garden. The conversation was stilted as no one knew what to say since all neutral subjects had been exhausted at supper. Georgiana soon abandoned her piano and picked up a book that was lying on the table. They all sat in almost complete silence with one eye on the clock, waiting for a time when it would be proper to excuse themselves and retire for bed.

Elizabeth did just that and welcomed the release from formalities. Yet she mourned the fact that her argument with Darcy had caused such awkwardness and unease throughout the house. She ambled up to her rooms, noticing that the light was still burning in Darcy's study. _So much the better_, she thought. Crossing into her room, she quietly shut the door and debated about calling the maid. She decided that she would much rather be alone and undressed by the light of one lone candle. The moon was full and shone brightly through her window. Crickets chirped loudly outside and the heavy warm breeze made the room unbearably hot. Elizabeth put on a simple cotton nightdress and set her candle on the nightstand next to her bed. After hesitating for a minute, she crossed the room and locked the communicating door. She took her newest novel out from the table's drawer and put the key in its place. Then she climbed into bed and settled to read.

Not long after, her eyes began to grow heavy and the words in the book blurred. She marked her page and blew out the candle. Scarcely two minutes later, she heard the door to her husband's room creak open. Turning in her bed, she could just barely make out a sliver of light the peeped through the bottom of the communicating door. She congratulated herself on having the foresight to lock it. Rolling over, she determinedly ignored the movement coming from the next room. But just as she told herself she was glad to be by herself for once, she realized that she would much rather be curled up next to her husband. She felt like a fish swimming in a sea, tossing and turning in the waves.

An owl hooted far away in the woods, she could dimly hear the reply. Just outside her window the whole world was awake and together. Tightly wrapped in a cotton sheet in the middle of her bed, she had never felt more alone.

Darcy stood in his room scowling out the window. He had spent the entire day trying to convince himself that since he had lived without her before, one day pretending she was not there would not be difficult. Never before had he been so misguided. When he was secluded in his study, he found himself constantly expecting to hear her footsteps or her voice as she came down the hall. Though he had still been furious at dinner, by supper he had calmed down from his afternoon of confinement. But then she had to walk in wearing that awful dress. He was not a fool and he knew what she meant by it. She wanted him to know that she was quite able to live without him, that he had no hold on her and needed none of his finery.

He glanced over at the communicating door and could not discern even a flicker of light from behind it. Getting up from his perch, he began to make himself ready for bed. In his mind he debated whether he should try the door or not, though he knew she would have it locked. Eventually his pride won, deciding that then Elizabeth would know he could not go a day without her. It was rare that a man ever showed his weakness and Darcy did not plan on being any different.

Finally changed, he climbed into his bed and willed himself to sleep. Unfortunately, his mind had different ideas. The scene in Elizabeth's study kept playing over and over. Groaning, he mentally kicked himself for everything he said. He would set things right tomorrow.

"I doubt she will come."

"She has come every day and I know she will not break a promise."

"If we do not go out soon it will be too unbearable later and we shall not have any time!"

"Yes, but perhaps if we get her out now she will not make herself sick like she did yesterday."

"I admire your hope, but she is hopeless. She is completely stubborn and will not do anything she would rather not. Come, it is getting hot already!"

"But-"

"What a surprise!" Elizabeth exclaimed somewhat startled as she came down the stairs. She was dressed in a plain white cotton gown and a bonnet placed jauntily on her head. "I did not expect the two of you to wait. I am very sorry, I overslept today."

"Do not think anything of it, we are just glad you came," Georgiana replied, unable to restrain a slightly smug look.  
"Shall we go then," Kitty muttered crossly.

Elizabeth gave her an odd look and they crossed into the glaring sunlight. Their bonnets performed their tasks admirably, but they were not out for more than a quarter hour before it started to become uncomfortable. The pounding rays of the sun found their way through the bonnets, burning the back of their heads. Straw poked and scratched them and sweat had already begun to appear on their foreheads. The sky above them was cloudless and a pale almost sickly blue while the stone paths in front of them swirled in the hazy heat.

"We ought to return to the house," Georgiana stated, her head beginning to feel light from the inferno.

"I agree, it is much too hot," Kitty added eagerly, as desperate as Georgiana to escape.

"Well, then you two go on inside. I shall stay out for a few more minutes," Elizabeth replied distractedly as she stared unseeingly down one of the paths.

Georgiana and Kitty exchanged worried glances.  
"Elizabeth, it would be better to return to the house. You will faint and make yourself sick if you stay outside," Georgiana reasoned.

"Come, Lizzy," Kitty said, reaching out and grabbing Elizabeth's hand.

"I thank you for your concern, but it is not necessary," Elizabeth replied, deftly removing her hand from Kitty's. Her face was set and her tone betrayed annoyance.

Kitty and Georgiana exchanged glances once more before mutely nodding and retreating back to the house. They both ventured to look back, but Elizabeth had already disappeared down the path she had been staring at earlier.

"I do not like this at all," Georgiana began once they were up in one of the parlors were she could command a view of the entrance to the house. "It has been over half an hour and she still has not come in."

"It is possible that you missed her," Kitty replied with little concern.

"But then she would have come here," Georgiana reasoned, her face contracted into a frown.

"She would have gone to her study unless she specifically asked for us," Kitty stated more confidently. "Judging by her actions in the gardens, it is quite apparent that she wishes to be left alone."

Georgiana sighed from the window. "I do not understand it. It was such a little matter, why did he get so angry?"

"As he is your brother, I assumed you would have the answer," Kitty replied bluntly from her sketch.

"Excuse me, Mistress?" Mrs. Reynolds called from the doorway.

"Good morning, Mrs. Reynolds, do come in," Georgiana greeted as she walked across the room.

"Would you know where Mistress Darcy is?" She asked with a face full of concern.

"No, I do not," Georgiana replied with a blush. "I do not believe she has returned from her walk."

"Oh, I see," Mrs. Reynolds stated with a slight grimace. "Should I wait for her to check the menu or should I just send it to Mrs. Cox?"

"It should be fine to just send it."

Mrs. Reynolds stood there for a few minutes as an awkward silence fell on them. It was obvious that she hoped for some information about whether the relationship between the Darcys had improved or not. Georgiana, however, froze and remained silent.

"Very well, Mistress. I shall send it down directly."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Reynolds."

She curtseyed and walked calmly out of the room. Kitty caught Georgiana's gaze as her expression turned miserable.

"I will never be clever enough to think of anything. Now they will all certainly know about it!"

"Do not worry, they probably already heard about it yesterday," Kitty replied, thinking her response comforting.

Georgiana silently returned to her vigil at the window and another quarter hour went by without any change. Kitty diligently worked on her sketch in relative unconcern.

"Breakfast is ready for you, Misses," Annie called from the doorway.

"Thank you, Annie. We will be down shortly."

"As you please, Miss Georgiana."

"There," Kitty cried triumphantly as Annie walked down the hallway. "If Lizzy is sill wandering the gardens, they will have to ring the gong for her. Either way, they will find her for breakfast and she shall be there."

Georgiana tried to make herself believe in Kitty's happy conclusion, but she could not rid herself of a foreboding feeling.

As had happened at the previous meals, Darcy sat alone at the table somberly eating his meal. He glanced up at them and a flicker of surprise showed in his eyes. However, he bowed his head to them and continued. The girls helped themselves to the meal and watched the ticking clock. A quarter hour, then a half hour past and still Elizabeth was not with them. Darcy looked at the clock and then decided to excuse himself. It was plain to him that Elizabeth would not appear while he was there. He would have to find her later.

Georgiana and Kitty remained at the table until an hour ticked by. They decided to not make the servants wait any longer and rose from the table. Annie scurried up to them as the left the room.

"Will Mistress Darcy be taking breakfast?" She asked, her eyes kind.

"No, I do not believe so," Georgiana answered carefully.

"Very well then, miss," she concluded as she quickly returned to her work.

The girls returned to the music room in the hopes that Elizabeth was in her study. Their search was fruitless and they decided to remain in the room. Georgiana began to review her Italian and gently forced Kitty to work on her French. After an hour, Georgiana practiced while Kitty sketched. However, Georgiana was unusually restless, jumping from activity to activity in apparent randomness. She kept crossing into Elizabeth's study and searching out of the window.  
"You know she is not out there," Kitty called in annoyance when Georgiana made one of her pilgrimages. "Even Lizzy is not fool enough to do that. She is most likely moping in some deserted room. If she did not wish to be found, she would not be."

"But I cannot get rid of this feeling," Georgiana replied as she returned to the room with a clouding face. "I know something is wrong, I just know it."

"Of course something is wrong, they have had a fight," Kitty stated with exasperation, feeling as if she were talking to a child. The idea that she could actually be somewhat of an older sister had seemingly gone to her head and she believed herself suddenly possessed with much wisdom. "You are just being overdramatic."

Georgiana did not reply, but continued to hold her own opinion. The morning wore on and Elizabeth still did not appear at dinner. It was at this point that Kitty began to worry. Kitty first decided to ask the maids as Georgiana felt much too embarrassed to do so. The maids replied that they had not seen her and Mrs. Reynolds also voiced her concern on not having seen her throughout the day. Francis Yates was questioned and he said that he had not seen her return from the gardens, though he could easily believe that she had gone off onto the grounds instead of remaining there.

The girls decided to head outside and look for her against the protestations of Mrs. Reynolds and the other servants who all volunteered to search for her. However, Georgiana calmly, but firmly, told them that her and Kitty would look for her and that she would prefer it if they would continue with their work. Everyone unhappily obliged, knowing they had no choice in the matter.

Georgiana and Kitty tied their bonnets on securely and stepped out into the rising blaze outside. Nothing stirred around them or chirped in the trees. Not even a merest trace of a breeze appeared to relieve them and the world was steamy and hazy. The eerie silence affected the both of them and they hurried their footsteps.

"Where should would look?" Kitty asked Georgiana.

Georgiana paused and thought, a mental plan of the garden rising in her head.

"We should start where we left her. The path turns and becomes a broad central path with dead ends off the sides."

Kitty nodded and followed her back towards the path. They swiftly walked along and soon reached the central path. Georgiana set off towards one end of the path while Kitty walked up the other. They searched left and right, glancing down the dead ends in the hopes of finding something. Soon they had both reached their respected ends and walked back towards the center, double-checking each path as they crossed it. They met each other with despairing looks.

"Where else?" Kitty asked, wiping the sweat off her face with the back of her hand.

Georgiana pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her own face as she thought. "She might have gone down to our garden," she said doubtfully.

"Well, it's a start," Kitty replied as they walked down the path towards the main entrance to the gardens.

"Kitty!" Georgiana cried after a few minutes.

"What?" Kitty asked as she spun around.

"Look! Does that not look like a ribbon?"

The two girls ran down the dead end path to the limp ribbon that dangled off of Elizabeth's bonnet. The bonnet was resting on an intricate wooden bench.  
"Where is she?" Kitty asked, wide-eyed.

"We have to look," Georgiana said hurriedly as she moved away from the bench and continued farther down the path.

Kitty looked around the bench and ventured into the flowers beds near it. She saw a piece of white cloth lying haphazardly among the dry, wilting flowers. Running over, she knelt down next to the still form of her sister. Her lips were cracked and her body, overcome with an odd flush, was sprawled out at an strange angle.

"Georgiana!" She screamed. "Over here, over here!"

Georgiana arrived in a minute, panting in the heat.

"Oh, dear God!" She gasped looking at Elizabeth's still form. He head jerked up as she scanned the gardens. "The nearest fountain is at least five minutes from here. Did you try shaking her?"

Kitty shook her head no. She grabbed her sister by her shoulders and gently shook her. They both watched anxiously, but nothing changed. Georgiana grew pale.

"I'll run to the fountain," she stated quickly before disappearing down the path.

Kitty still held her sister and muttered curses under her breath at Elizabeth's stupidity. Her gaze never left her sister's face as she waited anxiously for Georgiana to return. Soon she heard quick footsteps flying down the path. Georgiana rushed over to Kitty with a flowerpot of water. She knelt down and promptly dumped about half the contents on Elizabeth. Elizabeth sputtered and jerked upright. She turned a bewildered face to both Kitty and Georgiana who were full of relief at her waking up.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked, though she had a suspicion. "Why am I wet?"

"You fainted, Lizzy," Kitty replied. "You scared us half to death. Are you mad? You nearly died in this heat!"

Elizabeth's face hardened and she turn fierce gazes on both of her sisters.

"No one is to know of this, understood? No one," She said viciously with extra emphasis on the last words.

Georgiana and Kitty unwillingly nodded.

_Finally, right? I hope I have made amends. And now to adress some questions from reviewers..._

_As to the one about how Lizzy might not get pregnant, what would be the point in reading the story if I told everything and didn't give you something to fear? All I'm saying is that you'll have to wait and see. Regarding that good point that Georgiana and Kitty would have met at the wedding, it is possible, but with Georgiana being shy and Kitty still being obsessed with boys and good friends with Maria Lucas, I didn't think it quite likely that they would have met. Wow, only two questons? I must be more intelligible than I thought..._


	8. Moving Forward

_This update would have taken place before the New Year, but I was separated from my computer over break. The fates are against me! This chapter is significantly longer than the previous one and the following chapters will also be very lengthy. I discovered that if I continued with the short chapters, my story would be at least 100 chapters. Oh yes, this will not be over any time soon. As I will be adding and developing many characters, I would really appreciate specific criticisms on ways I can improve. I hope to avoid the notorious Mary Sue's, though it would help if I knew exactly what they are. I haven't decided if they are supposed to be completely angelic people of just one-dimensional. Anyone care to enlighten me? Oh, and extra points to whoever can guess the very slight Jazz reference. Think jazz trumpet, if that helps. Well, I wish you all a very Happy New Year and enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: As usual, all characters you know are not mine. The piece that Georgiana is playing was written by Guillamue Balay and is the solo I'm playing for trumpet. It's very pretty and classical. The following conversation between her and Elizabeth concerning it takes it's roots from my lessons. _

**Moving Forward**

Elizabeth glowered at the doorway leading to the music room, her one hand cupping her chin while the other drummed impatiently on her desk. After being forced back into the house and drowned with glasses of water, she had been imprisoned in her study. Her innocent looking jailers sat just beyond that doorway, listening intently for any signs of escape. Elizabeth's eyes narrowed as her gaze glared out the window. She knew she had been stupid for staying in the heat so long, but she had never expected to break down and faint. The gardens and grounds provided the only sanctuary from this unbearable house where everything belonged to _him_. Not one thing in the sprawling house was hers and to say that her improvements belonged to her was foolish. They were only permitted as a way to keep the master's wife occupied.

She sighed as she withdrew her gaze from the window. These musings did nothing to remedy her present state. Being stuck in this room was beginning to drive her mad and she knew she needed to find a new place of release. Her eyes roved over the stiff leather binds arrayed a shelf to her right. Each book had been read thoroughly and less than half completely enjoyed. As it stood, most of them were informative, more useful for learning than as a distraction. A few lines from _Petite Piece Concertante, _Georgiana's newest piece, floated in from the other room, it's mysterious melody striking a thought in her head. It reminded her of her favorite scene, from the tale of King Arthur, which involved the witch Morgan le Fay. Struck with this thought, her mood calmer and more composed than before, she stood up and walked into the music room where the music abruptly stopped.

"Elizabeth!" Georgiana began, shocked at her arrival and the calmness on her face.

"That is a very beautiful piece, Georgiana," Elizabeth interjected before a flustered Georgiana could continue. "I just wished to inform my jailers that I am off to the library, unless it does not suit their wishes?"

The question was not really a question at all. The two girls exchanged looks, both of them having caught the firmness of Elizabeth's tone.

"We are not your jailers, Elizabeth," Georgiana replied quietly. "We have no jurisdiction over where or when you go. We are just concerned that you do not take your argument with my brother too far."

The silence in the room echoed. It was the first time this sensitive subject had been broached between them. Georgiana refused to look up from her hands and Kitty watched anxiously from behind Elizabeth. Elizabeth, her gaze still not moving from Georgiana's bent head, stiffened.

"I will be going to the library," she replied shortly, her annoyance and unwillingness to speak of the subject evident. She turned around and walked out into the corridor.

She made her way to the library without spotting a single soul. Upon reaching her destination, however, she paused with her hand just resting on the doorknob. The thought had occurred to her on her journey that there was a high possibility that her husband would be there when she arrived. Pausing now, she heard no sound from within and quietly opened the door. Her husband's study was just a few rooms down the hall and she succeeded in her mission of entering the library unheard.

Elizabeth ambled over to the windows, feeling the sweet relief of victory. She dragged open the heavy curtains and blinked in the abruptness of the blinding sunlight. Trailing her fingers along the silk smooth binds, she searched for a copy that was slightly more used than the rest. Hidden comfortably on one of the third shelves, she found the object of her hunt. Seizing the novel, she retreated to a window seat where there was the most light and an occasional breeze. Curling up on it, she opened the volume and promptly lost herself in a land of chivalrous knights, diamond ladies, and magic.

* * *

"Elizabeth," Georgiana called gently from the doorway. 

Elizabeth jerked her head up in surprise, so riveted was she in her novel.

"Yes, Georgiana, what is it?" She asked, her voice calm and void of the irritation of before.

"Supper is ready. I naturally assumed that you would lose track of the time. King Arthur is a favorite of mine too," she concluded with a smile.

Elizabeth stood up, returning her smile, and placed the book back on the shelf. Joining Georgiana at the doorway, the pair walked down the candlelit corridor in the direction of the dining room.

"Where is Kitty?" Elizabeth asked with concern as they descended a short flight of stairs.

"She was arranging some flowers and accidentally turned over the vase on her frock. Naturally, she wished to change for supper. She said she would be waiting for us just outside the dining room."

"I see," Elizabeth replied, before continuing pleasantly. "How is your new piece coming? It sounded quite lovely earlier."

"Well enough, I suppose," Georgiana said doubtfully. "The main melody is easy enough, but there are quite a few difficult runs. Sixteenth notes and nearly every one an accidental. Soon my fingers will be tied in knots!"

"I should hope not!" Elizabeth replied laughing. "If you take them slow, adding one note at a time, it should become easier."

"True," Georgiana admitted as they rounded the last corner before entering the hall that was connected to the dining room.

"There you are!" Kitty exclaimed in annoyance. "I thought you'd never arrive. Come, I'm positively starving!"

Without any ceremony, she pulled open the heavy doors and the three ladies entered at once. Darcy was already sitting as usual, but surprised them all by wishing the two girls good evening. All three of them, Georgiana and Kitty stealing glances at Elizabeth's face, sat down at their respected seats at the table.

"Good evening, Elizabeth," Darcy began meaningfully.

Every single pair of eyes flew to Elizabeth's face to see her reaction. Elizabeth started visibly at being addressed, but her face hardened and her eyes became frigid.

"Good evening, Mr. Darcy," She replied with an even voice that was laced with ice. Elizabeth did not once look at him and concentrated instead on dishing some chicken onto her plate.

The girls slumped slightly and inwardly berated Elizabeth for her obstinacy. Darcy started too, convinced that she would be as eager as he to end their dispute. Confidence deflated, his anger grew again and he sat there in a fierce brooding mood for the remainder of dinner. Elizabeth, on her part, skillfully ignored everyone's reactions and began an easy conversation with a half-hearted Georgiana. Kitty was busy enjoying the rich new foods, the quality of which she was not used to.

As soon as Kitty was done, Elizabeth led the girls to their evening parlor, again ignoring her husband. He sat alone at the table staring moodily into his now frigid tea. The debate that raged on in him was whether to follow them or to retreat to his library for the evening. He heard the servants whispering in the hall and realized that he had been sitting there for quite some time. The sun had faded beneath the horizon and the graceful moon began her ascendance. Getting up from his chair, he crossed to the sideboard and fixed himself a stiff drink of brandy. Carrying it with him, he tread the familiar corridors until he paused outside the doors to the parlor. He could hear his wife's beautiful voice that always brought a smile to his face. Her tone seemed urgent and persistent. His assumptions were proven correct when he heard the piano begin. The picture of the room was already formed in his mind. Georgiana would be playing the piano looking just like an angel with the candles place behind her. Elizabeth would be sitting on the couch almost absentmindedly embroidering, her face lit up in pleasure at the music or preparing to make a teasing comment. Kitty would be sketching or making a hat or something of that sort, chattering on about this and that. He was jolted from these musings by the sudden halting of the music. He could hear his wife praising Georgiana and could tell by her tone that she was persuading her to play again. Yet here he stood in the hallway, outside this scene contentment. The light flickering through the crack at the bottom of the door taunted and lured him forward. A lively little tune dance around the room and he used this as an opportunity to enter without causing too much disturbance.

The oak doors opened onto the same scene he imagined in his head except that his wife did not look at him with pleasure. Her pretty countenance instantly clouded and her eyes shut themselves from him. He quickly checked the betraying look of pain and quietly sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room. Kitty looked up at him in surprise, but other than that, no other strong emotion played on her face. For once he was grateful because it was just one less person he need feel guilty about. Georgiana, who beheld him after finishing her piece, wore the same look of surprise, but also of sympathy. She alone understood his predicament and he had hoped she would have been able to do something to make Elizabeth more reasonable.

"Good evening, brother," Georgiana greeted, leaving her post at the piano to sit near him.

"Good evening," he replied, taking slight refuge in his glass of brandy.

Georgiana gave him a slightly pitying look as she saw his eyes gaze over to Elizabeth who was still steadfastly ignoring him. She desperately searched for a neutral topic to discuss that might draw the both of them into it.

"Lizzy," Kitty called from the table in the corner. "You promised us a song this evening. It was a waltz to go with the new dance we're learning. I can't remember the name of it now."

"I would rather not tonight. Perhaps tomorrow," Elizabeth replied curtly, not lifting her eyes from her embroidery.

"But Lizzy, you promised us a week ago and we would have done it after dinner, but you weren't here," Kitty complained with a childlike pout and a nearly whining voice.

Elizabeth's eyes flashed up in anger, casting one quick glance at her husband. Darcy, who had been concerned when Kitty mentioned Elizabeth's absence, caught the look and stared curiously at his sister. Georgiana, however, was looking straight at Kitty who blushed and clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Lizzy, I'm terribly sorry. I forgot," she hastily apologized. "But you did promise to play."

"As did you promise," Elizabeth replied menacingly.

Kitty promptly dropped the subject and turned, embarrassed, back to piecing together a new bonnet. Georgiana tried to answer nonverbally to her brother's questioning look, but did not succeed. Elizabeth, after spending about five minutes unable to concentrate properly and pricking herself more than her liking, put her embroidery aside with a sigh.

"Get ready then, you two, a promise is a promise," she said resigned as she moved and seated herself by the pianoforte.

Kitty jumped up happily and was all smiles while Georgiana reluctantly left her brother who assured her that he would find no greater pleasure than watching her dance. They both stood up across from each other in the middle of the room. Elizabeth began to play and they all practiced with Darcy as a spectator. Elizabeth enjoyed this occupation as it provided a sufficient distraction from the man sitting in the room. She focused on the music and suggested improvements to both of the girls.

Darcy watched in silence and was struck with how graceful and mature his sister had become. She still seemed to be that delicate little girl that would always look at him with wonder and adoration. Yet there she was, all elegance and modest beauty. He turned his gaze to his wife who looked as handsome as ever. This argument between them was driving him mad, though he knew that he had been at fault, not her. Now his debate was whether he would dare approach her again tonight or wait until tomorrow.

The dance had been gone through three times before Elizabeth confessed herself tired and excused herself to bed. She persisted in ignoring her husband and bid good night to both girls before exiting. As soon as the door was shut, Georgiana returned to sit next to her brother. She kept her eyes down and twisted her fingers in an obvious sign of nervousness. Darcy watched her intently for a few minutes before asking the unanswered question from before.

"Why was Elizabeth missing after dinner, Georgiana?" He asked in a gentle tone that still commanded an answer.

Kitty's head jerked up from across the room as she studied Georgiana with narrowed eyes.

"She forbid us both from telling," she burst out.

"As I recall," Darcy interjected impatiently, "It was brought up by yourself."

Kitty closed her mouth, but continued to glare at the both of them.

"Sh-she went out for a walk with us this morning like we usually do," Georgiana began haltingly in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "But when we returned inside, she insisted on remaining outdoors. We did not find her until after dinner when she did not appear. She had… She had fainted from the heat and we had to force her back inside.

She did not wish us to tell a soul."

Georgiana concluded her speech fearfully as she glanced up at her brother. His face was unreadable as he absorbed this information.

"Did she say why she remained outdoors for so long?" He continued in the same gentle tone.

"No, but- but I believe that… that she felt as if she needed to escape the house. Kitty says that she would often go on walks to clear her head."

Darcy said no more for many minutes. Kitty was close to crying a mutiny while Georgiana continued to twist her fingers. After a few long minutes of silence, Darcy stood up and also bade them both good night. The instant he left, Kitty rounded on Georgiana for betraying Elizabeth's trust.

"But do you not see?" Georgiana reasoned passionately. "He is concerned and worried. The main reason they are still arguing is that they refuse to listen to each other. Now perhaps they might be sensible and reconciled by morning."

"So you would betray her trust to achieve that."

"You were the one who mentioned it first," Georgiana defended, deflating the skirmish as she picked up a novel. "I dislike it whenever people quarrel, especially when they are both clearly longing to be with each other. They are merely stubborn."

Kitty would intermittently pick up this thread of conversation, but Georgiana refused to be dragged into it again. Kitty reluctantly gave up on the subject and they both continued with their respective tasks until they decided to retire for bed. They silently passed by the main bedrooms but could discern no sound from within. No light flickered in either room and they were both forced to endure the suspense for the next day.

* * *

Darcy glared fiercely at the falsely cheerful sunlight twinkling into his room. His unconscious first noticed that the breeze had completely disappeared, but then the reminder of what had occurred the previous night forced itself painfully into the front of his mind. After listening to Georgiana explain about Elizabeth's absence, he had immediately come to their chambers. Thankfully the light still glimmered beneath her door and he confidently knocked on it. 

"Elizabeth," he had called gently. "Elizabeth, please, let me in. We must talk about this."

Almost instantly the faint light disappeared and no sound floated over from the room. He stood there with mounting anger rushing over him. It seemed impossible to him that she could be so unreasonable in her refusal to put things to right.

"Elizabeth," he repeated more forcefully, trying to keep his anger out of his tone. "I know I have been at fault and said atrocious things, but you must be reasonable about this! Let me in, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth bit back many caustic remarks that entered her mind and glared at the door. She relished in the fact that he was finally feeling the same pain caused by injustice that she had felt, but another part of her wanted the charade the end and to sleep peacefully that night. Her body filled with conflicting emotions, she did not say a word and finally heard him retreat to his room.

Darcy had gone to bed in an increasingly sour mood. His mind would give him no peace as he tried to find a solution to end their dispute. However, this morning shone down on a man just as confused and angry as the night before. At one point he had resolved to wait and let her come to him, but his rational side knew that she would be too proud herself to back down, especially since he had been the one at fault. As he gloomily got dressed with the help of his man, Travis, an idea suddenly erupted into his mind.

Noticing the time on the clock, he urged Travis to hurry and was dressed within five minutes. Walking quickly out the door, he hoped his guess was correct. He knew Elizabeth was never an early riser and that he alone made her get up so early. Therefore, he concluded, she would still not be out of bed.

Pausing outside her door, his assumptions were rewarded by hearing her voice and that of her maid still chatting inside her room. He retreated back down the corridor so that even though he still retained a full view of her door, it would be less likely that she would see him. After a quarter hour of waiting, the door opened and Elizabeth hurriedly rushed out, tying on her bonnet as she went. Darcy left his hiding place and followed her down the corridor, his long strides easily overtaking her.

"Elizabeth," he called when he was naught but two paces behind her. She started at being addressed and he could see her stiffen before she turned around.

"Yes?" she answered saucily, not trying to hide her annoyance.

"I wish to speak with you," he replied, making no endeavor to check his annoyance either. "Now."

"I pray you excuse me, but I am already engaged to walk with your sister at present," she countered with impertinent civility.

"I am sure that depriving her of your company for one morning will not cause her much harm," he said blandly as he gently took her arm and led her into the nearest drawing room before she could protest.

Elizabeth's eyes were sparking as she glared at him while he shut the door. Though any rational man would have run from her at that point, he did not deter from his resolve. He crossed the room and stood a few feet in front of her, the thoughts he had formed seemed to have left him now that he had gotten her here. She made no move to help him, preferring to glare at him in silence. Her arms were folded obstinately across her chest and her bonnet now hung from one of her hands. Darcy exhaled softly and decided that since his thoughts had betrayed him, he had no other option than plunging right in.

"Elizabeth," he began, twisting his hands in a manner vaguely similar to Georgiana's. "I am aware that you have every right and justification to be angry with me. I realize that the things I said were hideous and I apologize for them. I was just startled by seeing _his_ name. I had a vain hope that after assisting him in his marriage I would be finally absolved from him and left in peace with you. As I now see, I am gravely mistaken and I hope you will forgive me. I was not myself and I cannot condone any such behavior on my part. I wish to tell you that I am most sorry and I will humbly wait for your forgiveness."

His speech concluded, he gazed longingly at her with an intense mixture of hope, nervousness, and fear. Elizabeth turned her eyes away and stared at the wall behind him while she collected her own thoughts. As much as she wished otherwise, she could not doubt the sincerity in his tone. It did not help her cause that part of her wanted nothing more than to return to his arms, but another part held her back. She would not give in that easily and let him think that he had the right to say such things to her. It would ultimately remove any semblance of power on her part and she would deeply regret it later. A decision made, she recalled her gaze from the wall and returned it to his face. His features had not changed and the feeling in his gaze had only strengthened.

"You would wish me to run joyfully back to you, to blindly forget all the horrid things you said," she stated in an icy voice that visibly sharpened the pain he felt. "But I cannot. I am not blind. How am I supposed to believe that this will not happen again? You threw accusations at me without any justification and refused to let me explain myself! As much as we may wish otherwise, he is still related to us through unions that _you_ approved of. Am I to believe that just the thought of that man produced such a result?"

Her voice had lost its frigidness and risen to a loud fury. Darcy was somewhat taken aback. In truth, he had thought that only an admission of error on his part would have been enough and that she would readily agree to end this. However, what she accused him of rang very close to what she had done to him when she rejected his first proposal. The remedy for him then was vindicating himself and now he was exposed to the same conclusion. He knew she derived no more pleasure from this than he did and had not believed she would make it so difficult.

"It will not happen again Elizabeth," he replied in an honest voice while she maintained a disbelieving look. "I admit that I was grievously wrong and I was not myself. I was expecting no more than to spend the afternoon with you and Kitty and Georgiana and then I read that note! It was that note, it shocked me."

Elizabeth's look of disbelief did not leave for a minute yet her anger was beginning to relent. "Then what of what you said? Do you believe all that you accused me of? That I still hold feelings for him and that I treasure all of my family over you and Georgiana?"

Her voice had lost its frosty tone and had become full of bitterness at the recollections of the previous injustice. Though her arms still remained crossed, her whole posture had relaxed slightly and Darcy took heart from this.

"No. I was not rational when I said those things. I am ashamed to say that I thought only of hurting you," Darcy stated in a gentler tone that conveyed his genuine honesty and embarrassment. "It was extremely wrong of me and I do not believe any of what I said. I know you harbor no feelings for Wickham and you have never been anything but a wonderful wife and sister. We both owe our happiness to you and Georgiana would not be half the young woman she is without you. Just the changes that you have brought on her these few months have been enormous."

Elizabeth's arms fell to her sides, the creamy ribbon trailing forgotten on the ground. Her eyes were clouded over with troubled emotion, sliding from his face to stare resolutely at the crimson carpet on the floor. She bit her lip, her gaze flickering up to her husband's. He did not press her, but maintained his composure and distance while refraining from reaching the scant feet between them.

"Did you-" she tried, but her voice would not allow her to continue. She shook her head sharply at this weakness and persisted. "Did you mean what you said about him having an heir, the money, all of it?"

"An heir?" he whispered, startled, not remembering ever mentioning an heir. Elizabeth stared forlornly at the floor as his mind struggled to recall.

'_He's forced my money on him, forced a connection between us, and has even turned you to his favor. More than that, he is already to be blessed with an heir!'_

"Good God," he exclaimed half-exasperated. Crossing over to her he tilted her chip up and framed her soft face with his strong hands.

"Elizabeth, look at me," he said gently. Her clear dark eyes reluctantly found his and held them. "I could not care less if we had no heirs or thirty. The money itself is of no consequence. All I need is for you not to be angry with me to be content."

Her gaze pierced through him, trying to make sure that he was not lying to her. His eyes were open books, all of his emotions twisting and floating within its pages. Elizabeth quickly stretched up onto her toes and kissed him ardently on the lips, the pain and hurt of the past few days washed away in that touch. His arms instantly wrapped around her back and drew her closer to him. Her arms curled around his neck and they were enveloped in a powerful embrace. Oblivious of all but the other, neither noticed the door silently peek open or the smothered giggles as it was hastily shut. They soon parted, each looking slightly disheveled. Darcy held her close and she rested her head against his chest.

"Would you really have gone to Longbourn?" He asked into her thick mass of curls.

She pulled back a little, still enclosed in his arms, and smiled up into his slightly worried face.

"No, I was not myself then, either," Elizabeth replied and kissed him lightly. "Would you honestly wish me to have thirty children?"

"I admit you would look very charming with thirty young lads hanging off your arms and tugging at your skirts," he teased as he tucked back a lock of hair from her face.

"Thirty lads!" She exclaimed mischievously. "I would rather wish thirty young woman to plague you with incessant talk over every charming gentleman they meet."

"Yet we seem to have agreed on thirty," he countered nonchalantly, but with a roughish grin that voiced other thoughts.

"I shall never be pretty again," Elizabeth lamented with mock severity.

"You flatter yourself," Darcy said, avoiding her gaze as he struggled to contain a grin. "I do not recall ever hearing you called pretty to begin with."

She gave him a good-humored slap across the back of his head. "Certainly not handsome enough to tempt you, sir. If you knew what was good for you, Mr. Darcy, you would take that back."

"So we have gone back to formalities, have we Mrs. Darcy?"

"Of course, after being insulted so cruelly," she replied accusingly.

"And yet," he said, holding her closer to him, his voice descending into a whisper. "You still have not left my arms."

"As it happens," she countered softly, her warm breath taunting his lips. "You are standing on my skirt."

He silenced her mocking eyes by bending down and kissing her again. After a minute, they broke apart and simply stood there letting the security and contentment roll over them.

"We ought to go down to breakfast," Darcy stated after a few moments. She nodded and they both stepped back. After making the other presentable, she accepted his arm and they walked out of the room their usual portrait of marital bliss. They were oblivious to the smiles and significant looks that passed between the servants along with scowls and money changing hands. Mrs. Reynolds created them with a warm smile before they went into the dining room.

Georgiana and Kitty could not retain their smiles and quickly turned to hide their laughter as the pair walked in calmly, arm in arm. Darcy and Elizabeth sat at the table and tried to appear composed as if nothing had been amiss. The girls were nearly finished with their meal, but stayed and relished the comfortable atmosphere that now prevailed.

"What do you think of going to Lambton today?" Darcy asked.

"I think it would be wonderful," Georgiana replied sincerely.

"Oh, that would be capital!" Kitty exclaimed in delight, her eyes alight with happiness. "Good Lord, we haven't gone to town in ages. Lizzy, I sorely need a new bonnet. The one with the blue ribbon got all out of shape when we visited the Maynards. Could I get some new dresses too? I know for sure that I shall have nothing suitable for a ball. You are going to have a ball, right? You _promised_."

Mr. Darcy kept the disgust out of his countenance with admirable skill. Georgiana looked shocked and hurriedly sipped some tea as she watched Elizabeth expertly untangle herself from the myriad of requests.

"Well, Kitty," Elizabeth began carefully. "We shall look into a new bonnet so long as your current one cannot be mended. I am sorry to say that the gowns shall have to wait at present. As for the ball, we have not discussed it yet."

Kitty pouted a little and said no more, preferring to engage in daydreams of what she would buy and how the men would fawn over her. Georgiana stared wide-eyed at her as she had forgotten the vain and childish tendencies of her companion. Darcy glanced at Elizabeth and gave her a slight nod of relief and congratulation.

"Brother, I overheard Mr. Yates tell Mrs. Reynolds that Samuel and the other gardeners believe it shall finally rain today," Georgiana ventured into the descending silence.

"Why do they say that?" Elizabeth asked as everyone's gaze turned towards the windows.

"They mentioned that it has become quite still outside, that unnatural calm before a storm. The sky is a sickly green-violet in the northern corner there, see? They said that they have seen dark storm clouds rising there too."

Darcy looked out of the window in concern. He could see the tops branches of the trees beginning to stir in a mocking breeze. The signs of the storm were unmistakable. They were due for a fierce thunderstorm.

"I am afraid you will have to excuse me. I must speak with Mr. Coleman immediately," Darcy stated brusquely as he made a quick bow and exited.

The women were left in a sudden silence soon broken by Kitty.

"Who is Mr. Coleman?" She asked in a tone that would not let anyone forget her recent displeasure despite her curiosity.

"He is the assistant under Mr. Davies who is in London at the moment," Elizabeth replied patiently, though her thoughts were more preoccupied with her husband.

Silence again fell with Georgiana listlessly stirring her tea and Kitty sighing frequently as she stared at the painting opposite her.

"You are aware of Jane's good news, are you not?" She asked the table at large, skillfully bringing about some discourse.

"Oh yes!" Georgiana exclaimed joyfully. She continued with a blush of embarrassment. "Though I did not hear of it directly."

"What is done is done and best forgot," Elizabeth replied dismissively. "The doctors believe it shall arrive around the New Year. Your brother and I thought it would be pleasant to spend the holidays at Netherfield so we would be able to be with the Bingleys and also be there for the child. We are planning on going down in November. Is that agreeable to you?"

"Oh yes! That would be wonderful!" Georgiana exclaimed in honest felicity.

"Good Lord," Kitty replied mournfully. "Mama will speak of nothing else when I go back."

"Surely you take part in your sister's happiness!" Georgiana exclaimed in shock at this clear reminder that her friend was still quite foolish.

"Of course I do!" Kitty replied affronted. "But you do not know Mama. She will talk of nothing else except the child. And then there is Lydia's child too! She will be due in October I believe."

"Your other sister is with child?' Georgiana asked looking stricken.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied with heartfelt sympathy for the girl. She sensed that Kitty was about to continue on this subject when she silenced her with a glare. Kitty turned sour again and Elizabeth decided that it would be wise to end breakfast.

"I am going to look for your brother," she announced as she rose from her chair. "I shall return to my study as soon as I speak with him."

The girls nodded and headed off to the music room to continue with their daily tasks. Elizabeth traveled the now well-known path to her husband's study. Pausing outside the door, she heard the low rumble of voices. Debating on whether to interrupt or not, she eventually knocked boldly on the door.

"Come in!" Her husband's curt voice demanded.

She entered the room and the exasperated mask of annoyance that adorned his face abated slightly at beholding her. Mr. Coleman stood next to him at the desk, his face set in stern disapproval at a wife daring to enter her husband's study while he was working. It was most unorthodox and displayed a severe lack of obedience and submission.

"Yes, Elizabeth?" Darcy asked kindly, though his annoyance was still prevalent.

"I was worried about you and how you left us so abruptly at breakfast," she began. "Can I be of any assistance?"

Mr. Coleman let out a derisive snort that he unsuccessfully tried to hide. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him while her husband smiled benevolently, like a parent trying to gently remind a child to run and play.

"I appreciate your offer, Elizabeth, but it is mainly figures and implementing measures that will keep the horses and crops safe. It would not be of any interest to you," he concluded, thinking he had solved the matter and he returned to looking at the papers in his hand.

Mr. Coleman smirked at her with satisfied smile at seeing this country chit put rightfully in her place. Darcy had been a fool in marrying her and now she was learning what exactly it meant to be a Darcy. He noticed with delight as the dismissal created a look of pure shock on her face. In other circumstances she would have retreated and brought up the subject later, but her gaze just happened to land on the odious Mr. Coleman and his cocky grin. Her features turned dangerous and then composed.

"You are quite right, Fitzwilliam," she began primly, throwing one last glare at Mr. Coleman before turning to her husband. "It is really of no interest to me because I do not understand all of the measures. We did use a few at Longbourn, but I would rather learn how these matters are settled here. There may be a time when you are away in London or elsewhere on business and I should be honored if I would be able to run Pemberley in you stead."

"Of course, my dear," he replied, slightly taken aback by her eagerness. "But Mr. Davies and Mr. Coleman would be here to assist you. You need not trouble yourself."

"I suppose," she said with a small smile that was nearly a grimace. "But I should hardly feel Mistress of Pemberley if I knew you did not trust me with our estate."

Mr. Coleman was greatly disturbed by this wild enthusiasm. He was sure that this country lass was up to some dirty tricks. Darcy, with his eyes shadowed with suspicion, had thoughts similar to these.

"What are you on about, Elizabeth?" He asked, his attempt at composure not hiding his other feelings.

"I just wish to be of use and hoped I could alleviate some of your duties. I would not be of any use up in my study reading nonsense letters!" She exclaimed not dispassionately.

Mr. Coleman's eyes widened in shock and he gripped the edge of the desk for support. He had never been near such a radical female as this. Now he was quite confident that not only had Mr. Darcy married a country broad with no fortune, he had married a demon from hell itself. Darcy, much to Mr. Coleman's chagrin, chuckled at this proclamation.

"Very well, Elizabeth. I will find out your true motives later."

She pretended to be affronted, but she was much too excited to complain. When she was perched on the other side of her husband, Darcy invited Mr. Coleman to continue with their previous discussion. After stumbling to readjust himself and remember the thread of that conversation, he haltingly continued his duty. The self-serving wench that had the audacity to intrude greatly unnerved him, especially when he found out that she was not as incompetent as he had expected her to be.

* * *

By early evening the storm struck them and with such a force that they were all taken unawares. Kitty took every liberty of reminding them all that a journey to town could have been accomplished until Elizabeth gave her the ultimatum between silence and her room. Kitty, not wanting to leave the company because of her intense dislike of storms, opted for silence. Aside from the storm and the girls jumping at each clap of thunder, the rest of the evening was uneventful. Eventually they all retired rather unwillingly for bed. 

As she sat near the window, Elizabeth ran the pearl encrusted brush through her dark curls as her husband watched her from the bed.

"Are you going to inform me of the true reasons for your interest today in the affairs of Pemberley?" Darcy asked teasingly.

"My reasons were quite clear," she replied with her own smirk, but with honesty in her eyes. "I would not feel myself the true Mistress of Pemberley without the knowledge that you trusted Pemberley to me."

"I am aware and I must grudgingly admit that you have a valid point there. I was greatly impressed by your knowledge today. I was not informed of this hidden talent."

"I often sat and talked with Papa about such things as a child. Old habits die hard, I suppose," she stated calmly, though her cheeks betrayed the blush from her husband's compliment.

"But you still have not told me of your true reason," Darcy persisted.

"Indeed I have not," Elizabeth replied bemused. "My other reason was that I could not abide that dreadful Mr. Coleman laughing at me like I was some upstart little girl who had no place to speak with her husband."

Her passion and anger was sudden and unrestrained. Darcy went over and sat next to her.

"I did not know he upset you so much," he began. "Unfortunately he is one of those with which duty and appearances come before anything else. Much like myself before I thankfully met you. He is quite old-fashioned in that respect and mostly likely believed that you were overstepping your boundaries, which you were fully doing. Not that I personally have much objection to it," he hastily interjected as he saw her open her mouth to retort.

At that moment a bright flash of lightning illuminated the room and gave it the brief image of daylight. Hardly a second later, a large peal of thunder burst above them and resonated like an angry gong. Elizabeth jumped and her husband wrapped his arms securely around her.

"Afraid of thunder, I see," he whispered teasingly in her ear.

She looked at him with scorn. "Do not flatter yourself with the assumption that because such rigorous storms barely frighten me, I need your protection."

"Of course, my little feminist, I would never dream of such a thing," he replied, releasing his arms. Another loud clap of thunder rattled the windows and she jumped backward into his arms again.

"But it appears that actions speak louder than words," he continued, barely able to contain his knowing grin.

"You are aware that you are absolutely unbearable," she replied as she leaned back and silenced him with a gentle kiss.

* * *

No matter how many times she repeated to herself that she was eighteen years old, not a fanciful child, and a Darcy on top of that, the last clap of thunder shattered her resolve. Snatching her dressing robe and hurriedly throwing on her slippers, she dashed out of her room, slamming the door behind her. Standing in the dark corridor she heard another door shut violently to her right. A white-clad figure moved slowly down the hall and she began to shake as the haunting ghost came forward. 

"You're afraid of storms too?" The ghost asked in surprise, using the voice of Kitty Bennet.

Georgiana started and blinked. The ghost was just her companion and she mentally shook herself for such childishness. "Yes, I am."

"I was off to see Lizzy myself. We always used to crowd into her and Jane's bed as children whenever it stormed out," Kitty declared resolutely.

"But- but she might be- be with- be with my brother," Georgiana stammered as a deep flush inflamed her face.

"Oh," Kitty replied nonplussed. "That is true. I never thought about-"

A sudden burst of thunder had them both clinging to each other in the stronger darkness after the lightning. The pulled back quickly and glanced up and down the hallway as if trying to spot the next roll of thunder before it occurred.

"We could sleep in my bed, if you do not mind," Georgiana offered as she desperately wished to be out of the corridor.

"Not at all, let's go."

Without any farther ceremony, the two girls ran into the room and dashed under the covers just as the next roll of thunder sounded above them.

* * *

The morning dawned misty and bright with the sun sparkling off the water. Birds chirped and sang loudly as they covered the ground and feasted. As the women started out for their walk, it was soon apparent that they would not venture very far. The paths were deep trenches of mud and no one's shoes were adequate enough to cope with it. They abandoned their journey and strolled leisurely back to the house. It was then that Elizabeth brought up the subject her husband had proposed the night before. 

"Fitzwilliam and I were talking last night," she began as her audience looked up at her with mild interest. "We were discussing the plan to visit Netherfield for the holidays and we thought that we all might go to London at the end of this month and spend a few months there. What is your opinion?"

Kitty immediately went off on into streams of jubilation as she enumerated the dresses, balls, and dashing young men that she was sure to meet. Elizabeth expertly tuned her out and focused her attention on Georgiana who had not said a word and looked like she was going to attend a funeral. All Georgiana could think of was the horrible impression she had made when she was in London before and did not wish to endure the tortures of parties again.

"I understand what you are feeling, Georgiana," Elizabeth said quietly as Kitty continued in her mirth. "But I can assure you that we shall not entertain as often as Miss Bingley. We will also be able to look up that friend of yours, Miss Rowndell, was it not?"

"Yes," Georgiana replied gratefully while Kitty spun around in horror.

"We're not going to entertain?" She asked scandalized, her eyes widening in terror.

"No, we are going to entertain and go to parties and such, but we shall not do it as often as Miss Bingley. Fitzwilliam does not particularly care for parties," Elizabeth replied in slight annoyance.

"Now I shall never be married if we never go to any parties. How else am I to meet such charming young men?" She lamented.

"You shall not be seeing your breakfast if you do not hurry. The gong will ring in a minute and we need to change from these muddy gowns before then."

This attack on her appearance frightened Kitty considerably and she nearly ran the entire way back to the house. Elizabeth and Georgiana ambled after her, as they knew they had more than a half hour before breakfast.

* * *

The rest of August was devoted to packing and orders for their long trip. Messages were sent out almost daily to Mr. Davies to have him prepare the house for their arrival. The gossips around London noticed this activity and eagerly awaited the day when they would all finally see the new Mrs. Darcy. Within a day of the house being opened, everyone in London was already aware of all the particulars between them and concerning who she was before her marriage. Just as Georgiana was rendered insufferably proud, everyone had it on excellent authority that Mrs. Darcy was a pretty country girl who was nothing more than a money hunter. Surmises were being made as to how soon Mr. Darcy would be deceased and she would inherit all of his fortune. 

In Pemberley, however, they remained blissfully unaware of these developments. Though Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth still quarreled on occasion, it was such that was normally solved by the end of the day. Elizabeth took great delight in reading the newspaper after her husband and purposely playing the devil's advocate in their discussions that would occasionally grow rather heated. Mr. Coleman was constantly near cardiac arrest at this unheard of banter between the husband and wife. As they were soon leaving, he decided to remain only for his impressive sum. Scarcely a week before they were scheduled to depart, an event occurred that delayed their progress for a fortnight.

Mr. Kipling, the rector of the living at Kympton, called one morning for a meeting with Mr. Darcy. The two were shut in his study for most of the morning and he was invited to stay for dinner. The general subject of their meeting was unveiled at the meal. Mr. Kipling, a man of one-and-forty with seven children and a now deceased wife, was the third son of wealthy banker who had purchased a moderate property in Norfolk. His father having recently passed on and his mother in rapidly deteriorating health, he eloquently expressed a desire to be closer to his family in order to assist them. The previous minister of the family living had just passed on and his brother wrote to inform him that they were holding the living for him if he so desired it. Mr. Darcy had readily agreed to discharge him, but informed him that he must remain until a replacement could be found.

"I anticipated this, sir, and I have taken the liberty of finding a suitable replacement for myself. His name is Robert Foxten and he is just two years out of seminary. As the fifth son of an earl, he is entitled to almost no fortune. He is but six-and-twenty, but I have never seen such true compassion or steady a character as I have witnessed in him," Mr. Kipling concluded proudly.

"Has he had a living before?" Darcy asked shrewdly, not wanting some bumbling new minister. Elizabeth and Georgiana listened to the affair with some interest while Kitty idly played with her food.

"Yes, sir, a moderate living in Lincolnshire. He wishes to be married and no woman would accept him at his station."

"So he desires to come only to look for a wife?"

"No, sir, not at all. He has seen much felicity in the married state and dearly wishes to share that as well. I have no doubt that when he witnesses your happiness, he shall desire it even more."

"Your flattery shall get you nowhere, Mr. Kipling," Darcy replied with teasing sternness. "Let this Mr. Foxten deliver the sermon on Sunday and we will have him over for dinner afterwards. Then we shall decide on your protégé."

"I thank you most heartily, Mr. Darcy. I knew you would be understanding," Mr. Kipling stated joyously as he successfully completed his mission.

The following Sunday they met with Mr. Foxten. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth were both deeply impressed with his sermon and quite prepared to hire him immediately. Georgiana thought he was quite an understanding fellow and even Kitty allowed him to be handsome, though he was part of the clergy.

He executed himself perfectly at dinner and Mr. Kipling was beaming with pride at his protégé. Though the men did not notice, Elizabeth was aware of his gaze traveling down the table to land on Georgiana and Kitty. As the meal progressed, his gaze would rest more often on Kitty who remained completely unaware and was engaged in a discussion with Georgiana. Elizabeth felt increasingly sorry for this man. He would soon learn that she was the least likely of anyone to receive his attentions. However, she reasoned, they would be gone at least until January. Hopefully another woman would prey on his affections by then.

Mr. Foxten was left in possession of the living and all that remained before their departure to London was to ensure that he was settled and Mr. Kipling removed to his new living. On the two other occasions when Mr. Foxten visited Pemberley, Elizabeth became convinced of his partiality to Kitty who continued to remain oblivious. Elizabeth increasingly rejoiced in their departure for London. September had arrived before they were able to leave, but on a crisp autumn day, they entered their carriages and left Pemberley for town.


	9. Vain Wishes

_So, here it is, finally, right? ducks fromobjects being thrownI'm extremely sorry,but I've been buried under numerous school projects and then cursed with writer's block. I want to thank EVERYONE whohas reviewed my story for your constructive criticism and for us almost reaching 150. I wasn't expecting half as many, so THANK YOU!_

_Disclaimer: Only characters you don't recognize and the plot are mine. Same old, same old. _

**Vain Wishes**

Georgiana's hands hung limp on the now silent strings of her golden harp. Her eyes stared blankly out of the blurry window that had been alight with mocking sunlight a half hour before. London was much as it ever was, dark, dreary, and full of rain and fog. The relentless drops pounded on the window turning the gray palette outside the window into a wider swirl of the same dismal color. Georgiana was off in a daydream of Pemberley. It was autumn and she had not seen the leaves change or walked the paths in the wood bursting with the warm colors of the dying summer. The apples would be bright red and sweet and Mrs. Cox, for she would always be Mrs. Cox to her, would bake the most delicious apple turnovers the warmed her chilled hands and would melt in her mouth.

Instead of partaking in these delights, she was confined to a threatening city that seemed to mock her. They deplored her "quaint, country fashions" and her "obvious haughtiness". The whispers had never ceased in her absence and now that she was returned, they were renewed with more vigor. Wherever she went, she was sneered at by envious young ladies and the shrewish matrons would pierce her with hawk-like stares. The young men would glance at her appreciatively, but would continue on to more animated young ladies. Even the money hunters decided that she was a waste of their time and pursued ladies more likely to give in to their desires. Though she delighted in the fact that they chased after other women, these men haunted her as they reminded her very strongly of Wickham. Her only consolation was that she had looked up her friend and was engaged to dine with her and her family that evening.

She continued silently in her morbid thoughts, longing most passionately to be safe within Pemberley and away from the rounds of balls and gaieties that only heightened her vexation. The loud thump of the door being flung open jolted her out of her reverie as Kitty whirled into the room bringing an air of joyfulness into the silent gloom. Her face was bright with transparent happiness, a broad grin stretching across it, and a letter clasped within her hand. Georgiana felt her face fall farther, if such a feat where possible. She knew that the only type of news that would bring such delight to Kitty would incite more misery on her.

"Have you not heard the wonderful news? We are invited to the ball at the Kellaways on Friday! It shall be grand," Kitty continued gaily as she flitted about the room pretending to dance with a mysterious partner. "For Mr. Robart, Mr. Ancell, and Mr. Stafford shall be there. Charles is by far the most handsome, though Mr. Robart is too I suppose, but only if his nose were not so pointy. Mr. Ancell is so charming. Did you know what he said to me at the last ball? He declared that he would not leave my side at the next ball or party or wherever we shall meet! How droll he is, don't you agree?"

Georgiana's mind had wandered during Kitty's chatter and she made a non-committal noise is response. Kitty turned and stared at her in astonishment after this lack of reaction. Georgiana eyes were glazed as they stared out the window and Kitty gave her an exasperated sigh.

"Georgiana? Georgiana?" She called twice before gaining her attention.

"Oh, I am very sorry, Kitty. My mind seems to be wandering lately," Georgiana hastily apologized.

"I will never understand why you dislike London so much, Georgiana," Kitty said in a frustrated tone as she flung herself onto the chair next to the harp. "It is so much fun! Balls, parties, and Lizzy did say that we will go to the theater next week."

"The theater is highly impressive. Have you ever been to it before?" Georgiana asked in an attempt to distract Kitty from her original question.

"No, never. But I've never been in London before either. Our Aunt and Uncle always came to Longbourn, though Jane did visit them for the winter once," Kitty replied easily. "But you have not told me why you dislike London so. There is so much to do even if the weather is dull."

"I just prefer Pemberley, that is all," Georgiana said neutrally as she straightened out her music and prepared to play again.

"But I wish to know," Kitty replied imperiously, snatching the music from the stand. "It must be something severe or you would not be so moody at all the parties. There are such charming people there and though they probably are not the type that you are used to, there are quite a few who are very pleasant. Lord, when I was dancing with a Mr. Levine I thought he would be the perfect companion for you. He was very polite, calm and quiet. I could scarce get three words out of him."

"Kitty, please return my music," Georgiana demanded in a fierce effort at avoiding the question.

"I think not," Kitty stated, hoping to provoke Georgiana into revealing her trouble. "I wish to help you, Georgiana. We're in London. You ought to be enjoying it!"

"It is very difficult to enjoy when everyone dislikes me because they are convinced that I am haughty and proud," Georgiana replied mournfully, but with a hint of bitterness.

Kitty eyes lit up as she found a footing into this troublesome topic. She dearly wished to help and enjoyed acting the part of an older sister. "Come, Georgiana. No one dislikes you. You are too gentle and pretty and kind to be disliked."

"You do not understand, Kitty!" She cried out in a short burst of passion. "As soon as I enter a room, everyone starts whispering. They all tell each other that I have thirty thousand pounds, am very accomplished, and unbearably proud! Then they all throw such horrible looks at me that I wish I could just vanish from the place. I have done nothing at all to warrant such censure. I do not understand it!"

Kitty looked at the girl with honest pity. She had not realized the depth these evil rumors had penetrated Georgiana and her sensibilities were flaming with anger at those who denounced her friend. Georgiana's eyes had filled with tears, which she hastily wiped away. Kitty stood up and closed her friend in a comforting embrace.

"Of course you have done nothing. There are all just jealous because you are so pretty and accomplished and rich. Indeed, I was a bit jealous at first, but you are so kind that it is impossible not to like you," Kitty replied with a smile. "I wish I could put sense into all of them for you."

"Thank you, Kitty," Georgiana said as she did feel slightly better. "But it is of no use. I shall be forever labeled in town as proud. I wish they would understand that I am only shy."

Kitty stood up and took a turn about the room, deep in thought. Georgiana had retrieved her music and arranged it again on the music stand. Returning wiht a broad smile on her face, Kitty sat down on the chair opposite. Though she knew Kitty's intentions were true, Georgiana knew herself to be fearful of whatever plot Kitty had formed. In her mind, she was already forming a polite refusal.

"I have an idea," Kitty began gleefully. "Let me help you dress for the next ball and I will introduce you to some of the men. Don't worry! It will be the sort like Mr. Levine, the proper gentlemen. You are such a wonderful dancer that it would be a waste if you did not dance. I will be with you and I'll help make the conversation so you need only smile and be your pretty self. Then those old hags will see that you really are not as proud as they think. And you must chat amongst the other ladies to be sure, or at least be around their conversation. Your friend might be there as well and she would be able to acquaint you with some of the ladies."

"I cannot change overnight, Kitty. I never know what to say at such gatherings. I was always at Pemberley or with my companion. We never really went out in company unless it was some of my relations."

"Well then, you must lose no more time. I will be able to help you along with this friend of yours. If you stay near Lizzy all evening, then you will prove to them that they are correct. If you speak with just a few men, they will be able to tell everyone else that you _are_ just shy."

"We shall see," Georgiana replied firmly and presently began practicing. Kitty, assured that she had done the best she could, left her to go find Lizzy. After searching through a series of empty formal rooms that would only be used if they ever entertained, she discovered the library where both husband and wife were entombed with Mr. Davies. They all turned and stared at her, waiting for the reason for their party to be disturbed.

"I wished to speak with Lizzy," she stated as a blush spread across her face. Elizabeth whispered something to both of the men and lead Kitty out of the door. Once they were in the corridor and the door shut behind them, Elizabeth turned to Kitty.

"How important is this, Kitty?" She asked sternly as she loathed being called out of the daily conferences.

"Of very high importance, Lizzy. It is about Georgiana. I-"

"Then follow me. It would be wiser to speak of this up in my parlor rather than in the hall. It would be a vast deal more comfortable too."

With that, Kitty followed Elizabeth down the dark wooden corridors and up a quick flight of stairs. They soon arrived at the parlor. Elizabeth hurriedly opened the curtains and allowed the grayish light to filter into the room. As soon as they settled themselves into the dark cherry chairs, Elizabeth urged Kitty to speak.

"I feel so horrible for Georgiana," Kitty began. "She is so kind, yet all those gossips say that she is proud and make her so nervous before she can even have a chance at proving them wrong. None of the men suitable for her ask her to dance because she is so shy and they think that she is just proud. Can't we do something to help her? I offered to introduce her to some men. Why do you give me that look? She gave me one just like it. I meant men suitable for her of course. The boring ones that are all proper and polite."

Elizabeth's expression was a mixture of amusement and admiration for her sister, but her annoyance at being called out of the meeting had not abated. It seemed Kitty would never learn the differnce between something of extreme importance and something that could easily wait until luncheon or the afternoonn.Although to her credit, it appeared that the attentions Kitty had fostered on Lydia had transferred, to their great improvement, to Georgiana.

"Although your plan does you credit with your unselfishness, I fear that it would be wiser to gently introduce Georgiana into society. She has been very unused to it and with constant practice, she should become relatively comfortable around others in a few years."

"A few years!" Kitty interrupted in horror. "Lizzy, you can't mean that!"

"Not everyone is the same Kitty, and Georgiana does not enjoy balls and parties as much as yourself. You will be helping her a great deal if you manage to get her to converse at least with some of the other ladies. I would advise against rushing her into any conversations with men that are unknown to her."

"But why, Lizzy?" Kitty again interrupted. "Surely she enjoys being in their company?"

"She has not had the advantage of being in out company as often as yourself. It would be wiser to do as I said," Elizabeth concluded. "Was there anything else you wished to speak of?"

"No, nothing at all," Kitty replied with a grin.

"I must say, Kitty, that I am very impressed by you bringing up this subject to me," Elizabeth stated as they rose from their chairs. "It was a very kind and unselfish thing to do. I am very proud and I daresay Papa would be too."

"Thank you, Lizzy," Kitty mumbled as she blushed from this unexpected praise.

"Just do not let it get to your head. I still want you to be wary of how liberally you bestow your attentions on the gentlemen you meet," Elizabeth continued sternly, but with levity in her voice.

"Lizzy, I will never be as foolish as Lydia, how often must I repeat that!" Kitty replied, truly affronted.

"As often as I see fit," Elizabeth countered teasingly. The sisters parted at the main stairway, both with happiness radiating from their faces. Kitty wandered off to remake a bonnet and coax Georgiana into deciding on their gowns for the ball. Elizabeth returned to the library and was quite disappointed to find that Mr. Davies had already left for the day. She sat next to her husband while he finished his last bit of writing.

"Why did you dismiss Mr. Davis before I returned?" She inquired as she watched his elegant hand gracefully fill the paper.

"The business was concluded and we were unable to judge when you would return. I gather Kitty had something important to report," he stated as he finished writing the last paragraph.

"Yes, something of much more importance than the last time she interrupted one of our meetings," Elizabeth replied with a smile as she recalled that incident.

"Ah, yes, I remember. Was that not the time she imagined that someone had stolen all of her things?" Her husband teased with an amused grin.

"The very same, though I suppose that it is hard to mistake the rooms at Pemberley since they are all so horrendously decorated," Elizabeth teased in turn, getting him to look up from his desk and fix her with a mocking glare that expressed how much he was offended.

"Then perhaps the new Mistress should spend more of her time improving the house rather than interfering in other matters," he countered as he turned a smug smile back towards his letter.

"Said Mistress would most likely shatter a priceless heirloom in the midst of her labor," she replied.

"At least I was not the one who had to say it," he concluded triumphantly, setting his pen down and reaching for the wax.

She playfully swatted his arm and knocked over small vase in the process.

* * *

"Engaged! But that is impossible! Isabel, you cannot be serious!" Georgiana exclaimed in astonishment to a blushing Isabel Rowndell. 

"I am serious, Georgiana, he proposed a fortnight ago when he returned from the country. He declared that he could not tolerate not being near me for so long and he proposed," Isabel stated, the blush spreading farther up her graceful features.

"But Mr. Campwell? He is completely narcissistic and I thought Miss Bingley was pursuing him," Georgiana continued in confusion.

"She was pursuing him, but he could not stand her at all. She was only interested in his money," Isabel replied with a slightly malicious tint to her speech. "And he is not narcissistic at all. He is very generous and thoughtful."

"But how? He- he was never attentive at all. Miss- Miss Bingley was always- You must be joking!" Georgiana stammered, still not understanding her friend.

Isabel sighed and prepared herself to give the full narrative. "Mr. Campwell is very good friends with my brother and he has been visiting us quite often while he is in London. But when Miss Bingley was here, she monopolized all of his time and he was never free of her. She visited a friend of hers from the Seminary for a few months this summer and Mr. Campwell and I began an acquaintance. He was really here very often with Henry and he often stayed for supper or dinner. I do not really know when I started feeling an attachment for him, but I knew I was devastated when he left for his estate. But now we are engaged and we will be married in the spring. He makes such charming conversation and enjoys a laugh almost as much as myself. We thought he was narcissistic, but that was only because he was trying to ignore everything about Miss Bingley and that forced him to be more withdrawn. He will be at the ball this Friday at the Kellaways' and you will be able to properly meet him then."

Georgiana stared blankly at her friend. "I offer you my congratulations, though I will always be astonished," she replied haltingly.

"So long as I know I have the approval of the innocent, I shall know I am making the right decision," Isabel teased with a merry laugh.

This tête-à-tête occurred after supper on the deep red velvet couch in the drawing room at the Rowndell's home in London. Isabel was Georgiana's senior by only one year and they had become close companions during Georgiana's previous visit to London. Isabel was very much Georgiana's opposite and they formed a striking pair in public. Isabel had deep black hair which glowed almost purple and pale white skin that had no need for rouge or creams. Where Georgiana was a light, romantic beauty, Isabel radiated Gothic enchantment.

Kitty was incurably jealous of Isabel, as she believed that the other girl's attachment to Georgiana was greater and more beneficial than the own. She observed their conversation from across the room with the scowl of a spoiled child being her fiercest adornment. Kitty found Miss Rowndell to be incredibly boring. At the moment, the lady was busy embroidering a christening gown for her godchild. She was also engaged to a moderate landowner who was the elder brother of her close friend and their wedding would also be held in the spring. Their engagement had been a long one and the placid Miss Rowndell was quite content. Although Miss Isabel was considered the more beautiful, Miss Rowndell was by no means not pretty. However, both sisters were very homely people and much preferred being in the country to their brother's house in town. Unfortunately, the passing of their father made staying in town their only option as their mother had passed years before.

Kitty thought the evening would never end. Georgiana and Isabel remained inseparable and Miss Rowndell was engaged in the conversation between the Darcy's and her brother. She amused herself by daydreaming about her admirable Charles Stafford. He was decidedly handsome, more handsome than any of the officers she had ever met. His conversation was always lively and he was never without something witty to say, no matter how wicked it was. The others, Mr. Ancell and Mr. Robart, were entertaining men to be sure, but neither of them could compare to her Charles. After finally finding a sorce of amusemnt, that odious Miss Isabel recalled her to the present.

"Yes, Miss Isabel?" Kitty asked, her annoyance and haughtiness quite evident.

"As you will be attending the Kellaway's Ball as well, Miss Bennet, I was hoping that you intend to keep your promise to Georgiana of forcing her to mix into society," Isabel asked benignly, ignoring the rudeness of the other girl.

"Isabel!" A horrified Georgiana exclaimed.

"I had no other intention," Kitty replied stiffly, her glare still in place.

"Wonderful!" Isabel continued, intent on keeping peace and not trifling with the jealous half-wit. "There, Georgiana, with both Miss Bennet and I watching over you, we will make sure you have the most suitable partners."

"No, I will not-," Georgiana began, trying to summon up enough courage.

"Yes, you will," Isabel countered gently. "You would not want Mrs. Annesley's hard work to go to waste, now would you? I thought not. Besides, society will never go away and if you wish to become a recluse to the country, you will have to find yourself a Lord. Speaking of Lords, Lord Rocheford has just come into his inheritance and I have heard he shall be at the ball. You must dance with him, Georgiana, he is quite handsome and quiet enough for you."

Georgiana's eyes were wide and scandalized and she looked as if someone had sentenced her to death. Isabel, and very soon Kitty, were laughing at the pitiable expression on her face.

"Don't look so, Georgiana, one dance will not murder you," Isabel said jovially.

Georgiana just shook her head in disbelief.

* * *

"Kitty, are you quite sure. I have never worn that gown to a ball before." 

"Are you quite serious? Heaven's, why are all the pretty gowns wasted? It will look beautiful on you, Georgiana. Where is you maid, Deborah, is it not? She is very skilled at putting up your hair. You must try this look in the fashion plates Miss Isabel sent over."

Elizabeth could barely hide her amusement as she passed by Gerogiana's room. True to her word, Kitty was assisting Georgiana in her preparation for the ball. She herself had no worries since Kitty had a very good notion of what looked well together. Maggie was already in her room with her turkey red silk dress already pressed on the bed. The edges were laced with cloth of gold and the net overskirt was made of the same glittering cloth. It gave the gown a shimmering effect, but retained the elegance which was all she desired. Maggie was very deft at setting her hair and arranged a host of red flowers artfully amongst her dark curls. Thick bracelets were clamped on her upper arms and she still wore her cross necklace. The door to her room opened and her husband entered, dismissing her maid as he came. Maggie curtseyed and left leaving the two of them alone. Elizabeth stood and turned from the vainity, an amused smirk on her face as she surveyed her husband.

"I will not embarrass you tonight by not looking the part of the Mistress of Pemberley?" She asked as she alluded to old gossip from their first appearance in town.

"I am afraid you will, my dear," he replied in a serious tone as she self-conciously turned to the mirror. "You see, you are a great deal too beautiful tonight that people will mistake you as Miss Bennet again."

She countered his smug and amused look with one of annoyance, but was not quite able to withold her amusement.

"Then it is fortunate that Miss Bennet was not able to afford as magnificent a gown as this, therefore they will recognize me as your wife," she replied cheekily.

"Well, if you are to be convincing, you must have something more appropriate than your necklace," he stated and pulled out an old, small case from behind his back.

Elizabeth looked up at him questioningly before accepting the gift. She opened it when an exclaimation of wonder as a beautiful gold and ruby necklace with matching earrings revealed themselves to her.

"They were my mother's as she was so fond of red. My father gave them to her when they were first married. Do they please you?" He asked as he anxiously studied her.

"Yes, they do, very much," she replied with a wide grin. The thought of them having been his mother's touched her deeply. She enveloped him in a quick embrace before asking him to put them on her. He readily complied and Elizabeth knew that no one could mistake her as not being the Mistress of Pemberley.

* * *

The Kellaways were an ancient family who had managed to maintain their wealth by making some wise investments in trade when the initial shift from agriculture took place. They still owned a large estate in Suffolk though they had never ascended past the rank of Viscount. Their annual ball was one of the most fashionable events of the London season, though not as restrictive as their ball back in Suffolk. A hall nearby was used for the occasion and those who were of immenent status were invited to a dinner party beforehand. 

Kitty could barely contain her excitement when she arrived. The sheer amount of fashionable ladies and handsome gentlemen gave her as much pleasure as it gave Georgiana terror. Though she knew she was inferior to all the fine ladies there, she was pleased that her light pink gown brought some color to her normally sallow complexion and that she had finally managed to get her hair to curl to her liking. She also felt a spark of pride when she thought of how beautiful Georgiana looked and that she played such a large part in it. Georgiana was wearing a lilac overskirt over a deeper purple gown. A large amount of delicate green embroidery covered it and she looked like a spring nymph. The string of pearls that ran through her hair, up higher than it had ever previously been, completmented the creamy pearls draped on her neck. The looks already being given to Georgiana was enough to increase her happiness, though she did wish some of them were directed at her.

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam both noticed the increased stares, causing him to shoot challenging glares to anyone he caught. Most hastily withdrew, but there was one who only evenly matched his stare. Soon, they were inside the glittering ballroom, surrounded by deafening chatter so thick that it was a wonder the dancers could hear the music at all. Almost immediately, Mr. Ancell bounded up and claimed Kitty's hand, who joined him rather unwillingly as she had just caught the eye of a much more handsome gentleman across the room. The Darcys were abandoned to the mercy of an old family accquaintennce who was not remembered with any fondness by Fitzwilliam or Georgiana.

To Georgiana's relief, Miss Isabel arrived in a flurry of midnight blue silk and whisked Georgiana off to join her party, with permission of course.

"If I do not get her to dance at least once this evening, it will have been a waste," Miss Isabel whispered conspiratorially to Elizabeth, who smiled and warned her to be gentle with her.

Georgiana was pleasantly amused for the first half hour of the party. The small circle she was included in dispelled the sheer magnitude of the ball itself. She was introduced with many friends of the Miss Rowndells, all of whom were so lively and talkitive that she only needed to speak every once in a while and smile. In truth, she greatly enjoyed their chatter. She even managed to say a few sentences to Misses Astley and Griffith concerning music, specifically Mozart. However, whatever joy she had was shortlived as the girls' growing desire to dance was answered. A group of gentlemen, including Mr. Campwell, presently joined their group and immediately paired off for the next dance. Georgiana managed to hide herself during the encounter, but Miss Isabel, true to her word, refused to dance util Georgiana was assured of a partner. No matter how earnestly Georgiana begged off, Miss Isabel would not be moved. It was left to her fiancee to convince his friend to dance with her.

"Come off it, James," Mr. Campwell urgently reprimanded his friend. "She is a very handsome girl and very shy too. She will not plague with questions or tediuos chatter. Just one dance, James."

"No," the irritable James replied. "I am in no mood for dancing and I have only just come out of mourning for my father. It would not do to be too jovial so soon. I have to leave tomorrow as it is, so I'd rather leave early tonight."

"But that is what mourning is for!" Campwell cried out exasperated. "Your father would have wanted you to be out in society finding a suitable mistress for your estate."

"He already found one for me, which is why I am leaving tomorrow," James replied curtly with a trace of bitterness. Mr. Campwell halted in astonishment.

"I-I see. Well, best of luck. You must let us meet her soon," Mr. Campwell continued before giving his friend a quick nod and sympathetic look. He returned to his group, leaving his friend to mill about and glower at the company.

"What is the matter with Lord Rocheford?" Isabel quietly asked her fiancee when he returned.

"He is leaving tomorrow to meet the girl his father wished for him to marry."

"Oh! How unexpected. Who is she?"

"I did not feel it right to ask."

"Miss Isabel!" A joyous voice called, interruptting the couple's whispered conversation. Gerogiana felt the impropriety of Kitty's intrusions kenly, but the girl seemed oblivious to it. Tight on her arm was a handsome gentleman Georgiana had never seen before, though he was promptly introduced as Mr. Stafford.

"Miss Isabel, have you ever meet Mr. Levine? Mr. Sidney Levine?" Kitty asked in rush as soon as the formalities were done with. The name struck a chord of memory for Georgiana and her face began to turn pale with horror.

"Yes, I believe so. Is he not the third son of the Mr. Levine near you, Mr. Campwell?" She asked addressing him.

"Yes, you are correct. He is fine man, though very soft spoken. His family is very respectable and we dine with them often."

Kitty's face sparked with even greater happiness. "Perfect! Georgiana, come. He is quite eager to dance with you!"

Georgiana's eyes grew as round as dinner plates as she began her flimsy refusal. However, the imperious Miss Isabel and the insistent Kitty forced her across the room to meet him. Mr. Levine was a very tall man with sandy hair and light green eyes, but ws unfortunately rather plain. He was also soft spoken and seemed as embarrassed by Georgiana as she was of him. The dance soon started and they were spared the uncomfortable comments of their friends. He lead Georgiana mutely to the floor and they danced in silence for the first half of the dance. Georgiana, taking pity on the man, found an old well of courage within her and ventured to ask him about the dance. He was visably startled and so they began a halting conversation on the dance floor. Their mutually quiet demeanors allowed them to both say little, but not feel uneasy about it. By the end of the dance, Georgiana felt almost at ease and had even managed a shy smile at least twice.

Across the room, Fitzwilliam watched them on the floor with a fierce galre, stiffening every time they met in the dance. Elizabeth tried to calm him down and realize that Georgiana was old enough to dance with whomever she pleased. Eventually, he grudgingly admitted that she was right, but refused to remove his glare. Elizabeth shook her head in defeat and returned to their party while still keeping an eye on her husband. Fortuantely, he remained oblivious to he appearance of Miss Bingley.

"Mrs. Darcy, how delightful to see you," Miss Bingley greeted as if she had a particularly nasty taste in her mouth.

"Good evening, Miss Bingely," Elizabeth replied with etremem self-sontol and an even tone. "I was not aware that you were in London for the season."

"I have just returned from visiting with my friend, Miss Grantley," Miss Bingley answered in the same tone. "How is dear Georgiana? I have not had much of a letter from her in quite some time."

"She is very well and involved with her studies," Elizabeth replied evenly, answering Miss BIngely's accusation.

"She seems very much involved with gentlemen at present," Miss Bingley countered, her gaze fixed on the dance floor.

"She has just come out and is still unused to society. It is a very rare occasion that she dances."

"The very opposite of your own sister," Miss Bingley replied with a sneer, taking distinct satisfaction when Elizabeth's cheeks sturned slightly red.

It took all of Elizabeth's restraint to not wipe that look off Miss Bingley's face. She was saved the trouble as it dissappeared when Miss Bingely stiffened. Following her gaze, Elizabeth saw Miss Isabel and Mr. Campwell dancing together. She noticed that they looked very well together, but did feel a small twinge of pity for Miss Bingely. Turning around, she reengaged her into their conversation.

"Will we have the pleasure of seeing you at Netherfield for Jane's confinement?" Elizabeth asked, hoping the answer would be a negative.

"Of course. I would not miss it for the world," she replied tonelessly. With a quick bow to Elizabeth, she retreated back to Miss Grantely, no doubt to vent about the horrid Miss Isabel.

Elizabeth was relieved when she left, even more so because she had not forced Fitzwilliam into a conversation. She knew there would be enough awkward moments at Netherfield and was glad that more were spared at present.

However, later in the evening, she was given her own time to look alarmed when she witnessed her sister amongst a group of girls easily flirting with some of the men there. She had rushed over and dragged Kitty out, much to her dismany. Though she did realize that her actions were very much like Lydia's, she could not help feeling that her wonderful evening was brutally cut short. When they left the party just before dawn, they were all greatly tired. Kitty and Georgiana fel asleep on the way and Fitzwilliam had not had the strength in him to chastise Georgiana for dancing. That battle was left for the next day. However, his uniform was never required as the post revealed something of greater import.

Georgiana was given the surprise of having a letter, written in a strong female hand. Wondering as to who it could be, she calmly opened it at breakfast. The rest continued to chatter happily, until they noticed the terror on Georgiana's face.

"Good God!" Her brother cried. "What has happened?"

She mutely pushed the piece of paper towards him, watching his expression as he read the letter, hoping he could find some way of getting her out of that evil. His eyes grew wider as he read and he looked at her with pity when he finished. Elizabeth and Kitty quickly read teh letter themselves as soon as he dropped it.

"I am afraid you have no choice but to go Georgiana. It would not be proper for you to be estranged from her because she does not approve of my choice in wife. We can delay your departrue so need only spend three weeks there and then join us in Hertfordshire. There is nothing more I can do."

Georgiana could only stare at himm as his words slowly penetrated her. She would have to spend three weeks at Rosings alone with Lady Catherine who terrified her. This time neither her brother nor the Colonel would be there.

"You are quite sure that neither of you can come?" She asked pitifully.

"Lady Catherine would send us out in a minute, provided she did not have us murdered. I am very sorry, Georgiana," Her brother replied.

"When it becomes too much," Elizabeth offered. "Charlotte, well, Mrs. Collins, would be glad of your company. She is an old friend of mine and a very kind lady. You will be able to see her daughter as well. She will always welcome you."

Georgiana smiled slightly to this comfort and Kitty wisely kept her mouth shut. Georgiana spent her remaining weeks in London in almost complete silence. The painoforte was constantly belting out mourful tunes and she grew even more reclusive at parties. The gossips, who had been full of anticipation when she had been seen dancing with Mr. Levine, were now confident of having more proof of her haughtiness. Georgiana now wished that she could just skip the next month and head strait for the holidays and Netherfield. Predictably, her wish was not granted.

* * *

_Something you liked, something you didn't, let me know! Also, if anyone is interested in beta-ing this for me, let me know in your review. I will probably randomly pick two or three just to get different inputs. Anonymous reviewers are also welcomed to beta, just make sure you include your e-mail address. Thanks bunches!_

_Ta!_


	10. Eternity

_Well, I'm posting this chapter again because I flipped the names of two characters. To save you the trouble of rereading to figure out where exactly I messed up, Kitty's beau is Mr. Stafford and Mary's beau is Mr. Stadbury. I think I have to get more creative with names. So, I lost my orignal notes, but this is all you really need now, I believe. _

_Disclaimer: As always, the majority of the characters are all Jane Austen's. I just meddle with plot and some of my own characters._

**Ch. 10: Eternity**

_My Dearest Sister Elizabeth_

_Time seems to be crawling so slowly here. I have only been here a week, yet it feels like an eternity. My only comfort is that in only two more weeks we can all journey to Netherfield._

_Have you had any news from your sister Jane? I hope she is still in good health due to her condition. How is Kitty? Does she get on with more success in French? She is quite skilled in Italian, but French seems to trouble her. I favor French to Italian. We make a good pair when together. I have been diligently practicing the pianoforte to pass the time, as you knew I would. I have finally mastered the Cantata 43. Now on to the Aria! Mozart is indeed my favorite composer and I thank you very much for giving me these pieces. I have also been practicing the duets, but very reluctantly. I know it shall be such a surprise for Christmas, but must we really sing in front of everyone? You know how frightened it makes me. Unfortunately, Lady Catherine often makes me stop as too much playing gives her a headache. Then I either work on my Italian or on the sketch I am doing of little Wilhelmina._

_Wilhelmina is such an adorable child. I hope to complete the sketch before I so that I can show it to her aunts and uncles in Hertfordshire. She has bright brown eyes and a small mop of straight dark hair. She gurgles quite adorably and does not fuss very often. Lady Lucas and Mrs. Collins send their warmest regards. I believe Mr. Collins took it upon himself to express himself in a separate letter. He is often out the few times I have visited, but we see him often enough at supper. Of course, Lady Catherine is intent on speaking only with Lord Rocheford._

_I wonder why he is here. I have gathered that he had been there almost a fortnight before I arrived. Apparently his father was a close friend with the late Mr. De Bourgh and he has come because of the last words of his father. It is all rather perplexing. Lord Rocheford appears a very solitary man. Perhaps he is shy like myself or it is just that Lady Catherine leaves no room for others to speak. _

_I have come across him a few times in my early morning walks, but he usually continues on his way. He retains such a broody look that one would think he did not wish to be here. But no matter, at least his appearance has removed more of Lady Catherine's attentions from myself. _

_Oh, be sure to tell Kitty that I received her letters and will be replying shortly. She has not received any more letters for me from Mr. Levine, has she? Oh, I should not have asked that, forget it as no consequence. This autumn seems less enjoyable without anyone's company. I hope you are all enjoying London. I am constantly thinking of and missing you all. _

_Your affectionate sister, _

_Georgiana _

Sitting back in the chair near the hearth, Elizabeth read through the letter a second time with a slight smile on her face. The concerns that Georgiana harbored for Kitty were touching, especially since Kitty could be heard across the room angrily muttering words in French. She could not withhold a chuckle as she read Georgiana's protestations at performing. Though to Georgiana it might seem cruel, she knew that it would be highly beneficial to building her self-esteem. She was also very pleased with the news about Charlotte's child. Her correspondence with the Collinses had been almost nonexistent since Charlotte's confinement, though she was not sure whether she should anticipate Mr. Collins' letter with dread or amusement.

However, the news about Lord Rocheford piqued her curiosity. From what she had heard of him, chiefly from the Rowndells, he was a handsome young man who inherited his fortune less than a year before. They had not mentioned much more than that, besides him being a very suitable match for Georgiana. Though they eagerly wished for an attachment, she did not see one as very likely. Yet his reason for visiting Lady Catherine, of all people, seemed rather singular. The innocent matter in which Georgiana mentioned Mr. Levine also interested her, but she knew Kitty would have to be persuaded from continuing any feelings that Georgiana imagined having for him. He was a kind-hearted man, to be sure, but had already passed his attentions to Miss Selwyn. Although she knew it would be better for Georgiana to hear of this, she hated to disappoint her.

Deciding to leave those musings for a later time, she put the letter back on the table and gently broke the seal on the other one from Jane. She glanced at Kitty before reading the letter and took note of the murderous look that was beginning to form. Judging that she had enough time to pursue the letter before the French book was tossed into the fire, she began.

_Dearest Lizzy, _

_I am perfectly well, to leave you in no suspense. The doctor says that both the child and I are in perfect condition at this stage in the pregnancy._

_I am glad to hear that London has not been as grim as you predicted, but you always tend to imagine the worst. I knew that all you needed to do was to be seen at a few social places with your husband. No one could be in doubt of your affection for each other, especially when you are together. I feel for Georgiana, the poor girl. It was wise to remove her, though I shall never believe London to be truly that wretched. _

_Speaking of London, have you meet with Miss Bingley at all? We know she was visiting a friend of hers, a Miss Grantley I believe, but she has not been in touch with us for a while. Mrs. Hurst has informed us that Mr. Hurst, herself, and Miss Bingley shall all be arriving for the holidays, but we have not had any word from the rest of his sisters. They were all amiable when we meet them near town and more welcoming than Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. All of them are older than Charles and already settled. The eldest, Mrs. Wedgwood, seems especially well married and affable. It appears I have two nephews and one niece. They are such darling little children. _

_But in any event, I cannot wait for you all to join us at Netherfield. Mama visits almost daily and it can be rather trying, but only because I am in this condition. Her constant tales of the agonies she endured in her pregnancies make me very uncomfortable, to say the least. She continues to lament over how awful a time Lydia must have had with her child, which seems to be the only other topic that Mama can speak of. She was quite upset that she would not be allowed to see Lydia for the confinement, so she feels the need to be twice as attentive on myself. You have not heard of Lydia's child yet, have you? She had a son, which was amusing since both Lydia and Mama were so convinced of it being a girl, on the fifth of September. They christened him Nathan Levi and Mama has not stopped reminding everyone of her good fortune in surviving to see her first grandchild. However, she is quite upset over the fact that Lydia will not be down for the holidays since Mr. Wickham cannot leave his station for a good many months yet. We cannot all have everything. _

_After the first few visits from Mama, Charles began to make himself more and more absent. It is a shame, but Mama has never been discreet. Papa visits on occasion and usually restrains their visits to a tolerable duration. Dear Papa, I worry for him. He is not coping well with only Mama and Mary. I believe that he has some sickness, but knowing Mama you can guess how much attention he receives. He is not one to complain at all and I do worry. Mary is out much more in society as her and Mama journey to Meryton daily to visit our Aunt Phillips and Mrs. Long. Though she is always is reading instead of joining in the conversation, I believe she enjoys it very much. She and Mr. Stadbury have developed an attachment and it will be a good match for both of them. Neither of them are very sociable and are often debating some piece of moral philosophy or scripture whenever they meet in public. He is a clerk for our Uncle Phillips and Mama is in thralls that she will soon have yet another daughter married. _

_I am very glad to hear of the improvement you have described in Kitty. I knew she was always a sweet girl at heart and the removal of Lydia's influence seems to be quite advantageous. I hope I shall be able to recognize her when you return! Papa cannot wait for all of you to come. He is growing more impatient. I hope his spirits will improve when you arrive. _

_Give my warmest regards to Mr. Darcy and Kitty and Georgiana as well, whenever you write her next. Charles and I both anxiously await your company. _

_Your loving sister, _

_Jane_

Elizabeth sat straighter in her chair and dissected Jane's letter in minute detail. She brushed aside Mary's attachment with the brief assertion that it would indeed be good for her, but was more intent with trying to ascertain the health of her father. Jane was one who did not desire to cause worry unnecessarily and would most often neglect to say anything unless it needed to be said. Elizabeth mentally recalled the last few letters of her father's. She had noticed that he seemed a bit wearier and more desperate for her company. The lack of sensible people around him must have affected him more than she anticipated and he could only visit Jane so often. She immediately regretted the rather short reply she had last given and resolved on writing to him before the day was over.

Jane's condition was one point that she was confident on. Charles had sent a letter to Fitzwilliam a few days prior full of joy at his wife's condition and eager entreaties for them to arrive earlier. The length of his letter implied a longer communication, but as her husband said nothing more, she did not pursue it. If there was anything that she needed to know of, she knew her husband would tell her. She also did not doubt that half of the letter was covered in blots and flattering phrases.

The news of Lydia's child had startled her. She was honest enough to admit that she had entirely forgotten the event, but such a thing could not be helped. The perverseness of the child being a son particularly struck her. However, knowing the parents, it would be slightly better for the child to be a boy. Heavens knew what a daughter would be subjected too.

Across the room, Kitty slammed her book shut in a burst of anger and glared at it with a murderous gleam in her eye. Hastily putting down her letters, Elizabeth reemerged to aid the unloved French book.

"I swear I shall never be able to understand that loathsome language even if I study it 'til I'm one hundred!" Kitty exclaimed in exasperation.

Elizabeth quickly smothered a grin. "Perhaps it would be best to work on something else. After all, it is not the fault of the book, it is merely a tool."

"It's a torture device is what it is," Kitty mumbled, shooting dark looks at it. She shoved it to the other side of the table as if it was contaminated and settled down on the couch with a sketch of the pianoforte she was painting. Every so often she would look up with a glare at the French book as if anticipating it to inch closer and surprise her with a sudden onslaught of verbs. Elizabeth grinned at the scene and returned to her writing desk, this time with the intent of replying to all of the letters. The crackling fire dispelled the early London chill and the morning passed sedately.

After luncheon, they set off for the Gardiners and it was hard to determine if Elizabeth or Fitzwilliam anticipated the visit more. Kitty was more interesting in going to the theater that evening as she had no close relationship with her aunt and would have to be subjected to listening to Susan for hours. The girl was nice enough, but very dull. All she spoke of was the exploits her siblings did and how she was much too old to be connected with anything of the sort. As Kitty mused on it, perhaps they might enter into some talk of fashion, but she did not look forward to it with any pleasure. She dearly wished to be at the small party the Miss Whitneys' were having so that they could all converse on their favorite topic of gentlemen. The other ladies were jealous of the attachment Mr. Stafford had for her and she loved to have the special attention.

Elizabeth could not wait to visit her aunt again and she knew Fitzwilliam was already anticipating the frank, easy-going conversation he could expect with her uncle. As they alighted from the carriage, a barrage of children could be heard announcing their arrival. The valet led them to the parlor where both Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were waiting for them. After exchanging greetings, the children came and each introduced themselves before retreating expectantly next to their mother. Elizabeth laughed and beckoned them forward again. Each face alighted with happiness and the gleaming eyes were rewarded with a small bag of candy. They quickly bowed or curtseyed out the room to divide and compare their treasure. Susan remained, clutching her bag delicately, and took the seat next to Kitty.

They all conversed happily for the evening and supper was just as merry. All topics were touched, from matters of business to Jane's condition to the individual preference of bows or feathers. Following supper, the women retired to the parlor to entertain themselves until the men arrived so they could all depart for the theater. Susan complained briefly about not being able to attend the play until her father assured her that she would not go anywhere for a week if she continued to behave as she was. Since she was to meet her "closest confidant" in the park the next day, she gallantly bade them all good night with the air of a sainted martyr.

"Susan seems quite changed," Elizabeth ventured to her aunt once they were all settled in the carriage.

"Yes, she has entered that phase when she is still a child, but desperately wishes to be a young lady. It is certainly a trying time," Mrs. Gardiner replied with good humor.

"I observed that as well," Kitty added, flaunting her newfound superiority. "She was quite anxious to act older and be treated as such. Honestly, the airs she put on where enough to rival Miss Bingley!"

"Much like you and Lydia when you were her age," Elizabeth countered blandly, making Kitty flush at the comment and the truth of the statement.

Mrs. Gardiner chuckled. "Most young girls go through such a phase, Kitty, it is nothing to be ashamed of. I just hope it passes before Cindy catches it."

"Do I need to ask if you passed through this mysterious phase as well?" Fitzwilliam asked his wife. She flushed and was about to reply when Mrs. Gardiner laughingly cut in.

"Lizzy was never one for airs. I remember one Christmas, you were about ten I believe, ten or eleven, and Jane was right in the middle of hers. She was never vain, but had her heart set on being the perfect young lady. Your mother and father had let you both sit with us before supper and Jane kept prodding you to sit up and behave. As I remember, you took great delight in mimicking others when you thought they were not looking. In the middle of your mother telling us about the newest fashions for the season, you shouted at your sister: 'Why must we behave like angels, not all of the grown-ups are so why must we?' Most of us were struck dumb until your father started laughing. You were quite affronted, but insisted it was the truth. 'I heard Hannah tell Letty yesterday that Mr. Wilkins was so deep in the bottle that they wouldn't wonder if he sold his soul to the Devil just to buy another! And Leah was keeping in the company of disreputable men from Lockdell.' Your mother fainted dead away after that and your sister hurriedly curtseyed both of you out of the room. I remember you protesting that you had done nothing wrong since you were allowed to speak you mind in front of the family. Your father nearly laughed himself to death and we ended up laughing at the absurdity of it all. So, to answer your question Mr. Darcy, our dear little Lizzy was much the same throughout her growing years."

The whole carriage shook with laughter and Elizabeth hid her mortification by laughing herself. It was with great relief that she saw the theater appear beside them. They journeyed to their box without any incident and found that they were sharing it with a kindly old dowager and another young couple. Kitty leaned close to the edge of the balcony, anxiously peering around with Elizabeth's opera glasses to observe the gowns that adorned the fashionable ladies. It gave her as much pleasure as watching the performance itself. She was also hoping for a glance of Mr. Stafford as she had been denied his company for three days, but her efforts were to no avail. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner chatted amiably with the dowager and the young couple kept to themselves.

"I am quite sorry, Elizabeth," Fitzwilliam whispered to her, the teasing light back in his eyes as the prelude began to play. "But now you will have to behave like one of the angelic adults."

She returned his comment with an arch look and fixed her attention on the stage beneath them. Once the performance began, Elizabeth had no recollection of where the time had gone. The story took all possession of her and she could clearly feel every emotion so vividly expressed on the stage. Kitty was just as enamored and all thoughts of fashion vanished from her head as she listened to the tale of the two thwarted lovers. She could feel their passion and wondered if there really was such a man in the world for her.

All of them were displeased to have the show end, but the unification of the heroes made it all the more enjoyable. They stood in their box and waited for many of the others to empty before they tried to wade through the throngs that lay below.

"When will you be journeying to Hertfordshire?" Elizabeth inquired of her aunt.

"We will be arriving just after Christmas. It is impossible for your uncle to leave before then. I believe we will only be staying a fortnight, isn't that so?"

"Yes, my dear, you are quite right. Always are," Mr. Gardiner replied.

"It is fortunate, Uncle Gardiner, that you did not become a doctor, 'fore then we should never see you!" Elizabeth stated teasingly.

"You haven't changed a whit, even with this nice husband of yours reminding you to behave," Mr. Gardiner chided, gently pinching her cheeks as if she were still the cheeky little child who ran wild in most things, not the proper Mrs. Darcy who might be watched by half of the society in London.

"Some of us must be bad for others to appear good," she responded with good-humor, earning laughter from her companions.

* * *

Autumn was nearing the end of her glory as swirling clouds of brightly colored leaves tumbled down around the solitary lady. The spencer she wore had kept the chill at bay, but judging by the breeze, a pelisse would be a better option the next day. Large clouds blew by in the pale morning light, some innocently white while others were more sinister shades of gray. Birds were eagerly belting out the news of the day. A robin could be heard sweetly chirping from the tree above her while a cluster of noisy crows were jarringly cawing from the distant fields.

This was they way she liked Rosings best. Here she could be alone with the wonders of nature and away from the stiffness of the manicured gardens. There was no one around to constantly stare at her and berate her upbringing for every little thing that was not perfectly done. It was enough to make her go slowly mad. She had already been close to tears numerous times, but had so far managed to maintain her composure. Constant visits to the parsonage to visit the little Wilhelmina also helped ease her spirits. Mrs. Collins understood her disposition perfectly and never pressed her into talking more than she desired. Lady Lucas chattered pleasantly about anything and everything and they were both honored by her proposition to draw a picture of the child. Lady Lucas could never refrain from mentioning her appreciation whenever they met and especially when dining at Rosings. This always prompted Lady Catherine to assert that her daughter would have unsurpassable ability to draw had her health permitted.

Anne seemed even more distant than usual. True, there was a large distance in their ages, but they had always more or less gotten on well. Anne would always listen to her play and Georgiana would often choose songs that she knew her cousin enjoyed. She had always seemed like the doting older cousin, but now things were different. It must have been the fact that it had been over a year since they last met. Anne seemed more sullen and melancholy, her cough more frequent and Lady Catherine more on edge. Ever since her arrival, Georgiana could not banish the feeling that Anne, as well as her aunt, were closely scrutinizing her. It was altogether highly unnerving and so she sought refuge out of doors more often than before.

So far, no one had questioned her early morning rambles. She would often escape in the afternoon after Lady Catherine was tired of her playing. Her sketchbook was often with her and she had found many picturesque spots to sketch. She wanted to create a decent portfolio to give to Kitty for Christmas and wanted to get as many drawings as she could so she could save the best ones.

She rounded a turn and saw that Lord Rocheford was coming towards her. Everyday she seemed to meet him on her walks. In her first week of being at Rosings he had said naught but a few words to her, although she did notice him watching her many a time. She could never read the expression on his face when he looked at her, but she could easily see the forced pleasantness he wore when conversing with her aunt. He seemed to pay Anne little attention, but was genial to everyone. Her second week had shown little inclination on his part to increase their acquaintance.

"Miss Darcy," he greeted, with a quick bow.

"Lord Rocheford," she replied, dipping into an elegant curtsey, grateful that her bonnet helped hide her puzzlement. He normally bowed silently and continued on his way.

As she rose, she noticed that he was still there and watching her with a look she could not understand. He paused for a moment longer before continuing on his path. She turned around and stared bewildered at his retreating figure. Another moment had him hidden by the turn of the walk. Turning back around, she continued walking, but she could not get his strange greeting out of her mind.

She was unaware of how much time had passed and was in the middle of the grounds when the gong announced breakfast. Hurriedly she ran back towards the house and quickly changed before entering the formidable dinning room. She would have gladly delayed at the door, but the ever-efficient servants opened it for her before she had time to collect herself.

Her aunt fixed her with a hawk-like glare as she entered with a deep curtsey and an almost inaudible apology. She quickly took the vacant seat, which was next to Lord Rocheford. He looked vaguely amused at her predicament while Anne remained unperturbed. Lady Catherine resumed her tale to Lord Rocheford, embellishing her various duties throughout the parish that she still insisted on performing. He bore it with extreme politeness and kept her Ladyship in tolerable humor. Georgiana knew too well that she should not imagine escaping her aunt's wrath and her instincts were correct.

"I was not aware that you were in the habit of early morning walks, Georgiana," she began. "Indeed, if Lord Rocheford had not mentioned passing you on the grounds, I should have thought you grievously ill. You have always been a very punctual girl."

"I-I l-lo-lost track of th-the time, Lady Catherine," Georgiana stammered under her aunt's accusing glare.

"But this habit of taking walks is singular, you were not so keen on it previously," Lady Catherine continued.

"I-It is s-something w-we began over th-the summer," Georgiana responded miserably. She knew this conversation would only lead to Elizabeth and her aunt's displeasure would be in rare form in the morning.

"We?" Lady Catherine asked, her eyes piercing through her.

"My sisters and I," Georgiana replied in a whisper, her eyes not leaving her napkin. She winced as she heard her aunt's fork clank heavily on her plate, but the next voice was not one she expected.

"I was not aware that there were more than one Miss Darcy," Lord Rocheford stated, in an attempt to keep the conversation neutral.

Georgiana closed her eyes as she replied. "I meant my sister Mrs. Darcy and her sister, Miss Bennet."

"And none of them shall be mentioned in my house!" Lady Catherine exploded from her end of the table. Georgiana visibly winced and Lord Rocheford stared at Lady Catherine with an unreadable expression. "I will not hear of that bewitching little tramp or her upstart family! Pretentious gold-diggers, bewitching my nephew and robbing his good name! Look at what they have done to you! They have replaced your Darcy manners with their common country ways. I will not have it!"

Georgiana dipped her head lower as two tears finally escaped down her cheeks landing on her twisted napkin. Anne stared between the two and blushed violently. Lord Rocheford, however, noticing Georgiana's tears, intervened as he noticed Lady Catherine getting ready to begin again.

"Really, my Lady, I do not think this is quite necessary," he began firmly, but was rudely cut off.

"Thank you for your consideration, Lord Rocheford, but this remains a family matter between my niece and I," the woman replied tersely, not removing Georgiana from her glare.

More silent tears escaped down her face and she hurriedly dabbed them away. Setting the napkin on the table, she gently moved her uneaten food away and excused herself.

"Not so quickly, if you please, Georgiana," Lady Catherine demanded, halting her at the door. "These manners you have gained from your sister" she spat the word out as if it were the foulest of vulgarities, "will not be tolerated in my house. That little shrew may have enchanted your foolish brother, but I will not let her corrupt you."

Georgiana bolted out the door and ran towards her rooms. Tears flew unchecked down her cheeks and she startled the maids as she flew down the unending corridors. If she had but an ounce of courage, she would have countered Lady Catherine's insults and stood up for her siblings. These conclusions only led her tears to flow more quickly and she found herself in an abandoned summer parlor, sobbing as she sank into the nearest chair.

She knew not how long she remained there, but once she had dried her eyes, she resolved on leaving the confines of Rosings.

* * *

"Miss Darcy, what a surprise! Enjoying the last of the good weather?" Mrs. Collins asked cheerfully.

"Yes, very much," she replied, taking the cup of tea and sipping it eagerly.

"It was a perfect morning for a walk, though it looks as though it might rain this evening. How are your drawings coming along?"

"Very well, that view you suggested was breathtaking," she continued animatedly. "Where is Lady Lucas?"

"She is with Kat since the nurse is off today. Kat has decided that she does not need to rest this morning," Mrs. Collins answered with a smile.

"I do not wish to be rude," Georgiana began hesitantly. "But may I ask who Kat is?"

Charlotte laughed. "Kat is my little name for Wilhelmina. She is really much too small for such a grand name. I took it from Catherine. My mother prefers calling her Mina, but I cannot help but think of the little minnows we chased as children."

Georgiana joined in her laughter and relished the comfortable atmosphere of the parsonage. A haggard looking Lady Lucas entered the room and announced that the little girl had finally fallen asleep.

"Goodness, Charlotte, the lungs on that little thing when she is set against something. She would rival any of your brothers!"

Georgiana's quiet laughter alerted the matron to her presence.

"Miss Darcy! Oh, what a pleasure! Will you be staying for dinner or will your aunt be expecting you?"

Her eyes widened as a light blushed crept up her face. "I- well I... She does not know I have come." She could not help but feel guilty and the rashness of her actions suddenly dawned upon her.

"Oh," Lady Lucas replied at this unexpected answer. She dearly wished to know why, but decided not to pester the girl.

"Well, it is near dinner time," Charlotte began. "It would be impossible for you to arrive at Rosings in time for dinner as it is. You are quite welcome to have dinner with us, though it will be a very simple meal."

"Thank you very much," Georgiana replied with heartfelt gratitude.

They chatted amiably over dinner without the interference of Mr. Collins who had gone to the neighboring town for the day. Georgiana's reason for visiting was never alluded to and the majority of the time was spent discussing Wilhelmina, or rather Kat or Mina, and the incoming journey to Hertfordshire. Charlotte was eager for any news about Elizabeth, but Georgiana seemed oddly subdued on the topic. They retired to the parlor afterwards and were shortly interrupted by Wilhelmina.

After being fed to her satisfaction, Wilhelmina was her usual gurgling self. Her bright brown eyes stared up at Georgiana as she held her. Sweet quiet laughter rose from her as she played and melted the hearts of all the ladies. When she began to fuss, her mother gladly took her and she surveyed them all as she lay in the small cradle at Charlotte's feet. A small rag doll was her current toy and Lady Lucas proudly said that it was a handmade gift from her youngest, Amelia.

Halfway through the afternoon Georgiana decided that as much as she wished otherwise, she would have to return to Rosings. She said good-bye to Lady Lucas and Charlotte walked with her to the gate.

"Georgiana, are you quite alright? You have been quieter than usual and I know Eliza would never forgive me if something was wrong and I did not at least try to help," Charlotte stated gently.

"Oh, well, it is really nothing," Georgiana replied as convincingly as possible.

Charlotte gave her a disbelieving look and Georgiana could not help the story from spilling out of her. The older woman listened intently with growing compassion and embraced the younger girl as soon as she was through.

"You poor thing. She should never have said such things. Don't cry dear, you know the truth of Elizabeth's disposition and manners and you know she would never hurt you," she comforted as the tears of her companion stopped. "Lady Catherine is just angry and jealous for her daughter's sake that your brother and Eliza have found happiness together. You have only two more weeks and will always be welcome at our home, so do not fret."

Georgiana pulled out her handkerchief and dried her face once again. "Thank you, Mrs. Collins. Thank you for everything."

"It is of no importance," she replied. "And do call me Charlotte. You should hurry on now, the weather does not look promising."

Georgiana curtseyed and started down the lane, her heart feeling lighter than it had when she left Rosings that morning. She decided to take the backward route through the Park instead of being more conspicuous on the road. That last thing she desired was to be seen by Lady Catherine before she was sufficiently composed. The wind had started to pick up and rattled the remaining leaves in the trees. Above her the sky faded to a dismal blanket of gray and blocked the sun completely.

A ways before she entered the outer gardens and left the shelter of the partially covered walks, she met Lord Rocheford again.

"Miss Darcy," he greeted as before with an earnest bow.

"Good afternoon, my Lord," she replied and waited for him to continue.

"I am surprised to see you out. We understood that you had retired to you chambers for the day," he questioned.

"Oh... no... I-I went to visit Mrs. Collins at the Parsonage," she responded hesitantly.

"I see, was it a pleasant visit?" He asked, though it was obvious that other things were weighing on his mind.

"Yes, she is a very kind lady," she answered warmly.

"So I gathered from their visits," he said. "Am I right in guessing that you are returning to the house?"

She nodded in assent.

"Would you give me the pleasure of turning back with you?"

Again she nodded, but with a blush she hoped he could not see. They walked towards Rosings and spent the first few minutes in silence. Georgiana wondered why he had offered when he had always been so silent. She had fleeting thoughts of what Kitty would assume and blushed even more. That idea was too fanciful and after her continued idiocy over Mr. Levine, she would not entertain such thoughts.

"Miss Darcy," he began hesitantly. "I know this may seem forward, especially after I have been very quiet this past week. I wish to apologize for my ignorance and imprudence at breakfast this morning. I did not mean to cause such a... quarrel between you and your aunt."

Georgiana gave a small, sad smile that he managed to see. "You need not feel ashamed, as she said, it is a matter between her and I. I am quite sorry you had to witness it."

She was constantly twisting her hands in her nervousness, but he persisted with his thought.

"But it seems as though her true argument lies with your brother and sister," he continued.

"It is a delicate matter," she replied neutrally.

Lord Rocheford wisely let the subject drop as it was apparent that Georgiana would speak no more on the subject.

"Miss Darcy, do you prefer walks in gardens or in the parks themselves?" He asked, searching for a common subject to discuss.

Caught by surprise, it took her a few moments to form an answer. "I suppose I prefer the parks, as they provide such pleasant scenes for sketching, but I have do have a fondness for fountains."

He smiled at her answer. It was quite proper, but contained a sort of innocence to it. "I prefer the parks myself. It gives you a feeling of being removed from the houses and their occupants."

"Yes, it does," she agreed, with her voice seemingly far off.

They drifted again into silence, but were soon interrupted by a downpour of rain. Stranded in the outer gardens, Lord Rocheford grabbed her hand and rushed her back to the meager shelter of the woods. They stopped under the dying leaves of a grandiose oak tree. The rain still pounded through half-empty branches and relentlessly found its mark. Georgiana shivered as a gust of wind rushed through the trees. She wished she had taken her own advice and worn a pelisse.

Lord Rocheford noticed and draped his coat around her shoulders. As soon as she felt the warmth, she turned around and struggled to take it off.

"Thank you, my Lord, but I am quite alright, I insist. Here, take this back, you must be freezing," she rambled as she continued to remove the coat.

He laughed softly at her insistence. "I am fine, I assure you. Your aunt would never forgive me if I brought her niece back home with a cold."

He fixed the coat more securely over her shoulders and she could not deny that she felt infinitely warmer, though she was not sure it was entirely the coat. She leaned against the trunk of the tree and could not help humming a melancholy tune as they descended into silence. It was one of the duets she had been dutifully practicing and was themed around rain. Although she thought the noise of the wind sweeping through the branches would be enough to mask the sound, her companion, who leaned on the opposite side of the tree, could still hear. They passed several minutes in this fashion as the rain stubbornly beat down on them. The harsh crunch of the leaves under his boots alerted her to the fact that he had moved to next her. It gave her a bit of a warning so she was not as startled when she heard his voice.

"Do you sing, Miss Darcy?"

She was thankful that her bonnet helped hide her face from his view. "A little."

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, leaning closer.

She closed her eyes for a moment before turning and facing him. "A little."

"Really? I understood from your aunt that you were quite proficient, though certainly not as proficient as your cousin should have been." His slightly mocking tone was not lost on Georgiana.

She remained silent as she knew not how to reply to such a statement. Sensing this, he continued. "We have not heard you sing. I understood it was one of your many accomplishments."

"Oh... I am quite shy," Georgiana replied, turning her head back towards the ground.

"My sisters are lucky then. Annette loves to sing, but dislikes playing and Josephine is the opposite. They make quite a pair. You play very well, Miss Darcy," he concluded with a sidelong glance at her.

"Th-thank you," she replied, blushing again. As she stared off at the sky, she wondered how much longer the rain would last.

"I am very fond of music, it cannot be helped with such sisters. The only option would be to go mad. You have a fondness for Mozart, am I right?" Georgiana nodded. "Josephine does too. I recognized the pieces. Haydn is more to my liking, though."

Silence once again fell. Georgiana could have said much on the subject of Mozart, but she was unable to form any of the words. The rain showed no signs of ending and she plucked up enough courage to ask an important question.

"Would it not be wiser to make a dash for the house? The rain does not look like it will stop."

"Most women would be opposed to getting their gowns ruined," he replied bemusedly, causing her to blush yet again. "I do not think it shall last much longer. Downpours such as these never last for more than fifteen minutes."

True to his prediction, the rain did end soon. They returned to Rosings in silence and parted in the entryway. It was not until she entered her room and was ambushed by giggling maids that she was mortified with the realization that she was still wearing his coat. She sent it back with one of the maids, who was giggling quite mercilessly, and decided that she did not feel up to facing both him and her aunt that evening.

* * *

The next two days were dismally rainy. Georgiana played the pianoforte until her hands began to hurt. At that point, she would retire to the sketch of Wilhelmina or the odious Italian. Lady Catherine continued to make insulting comments about the Darcys whenever she entered the room, but would completely divert her attention to Lord Rocheford if he were present. After the day in the gardens, he spoke to her more often, though Lady Catherine provided him with little opportunity. Anne surveyed it all as almost a separate entity. She calmly observed everything, but Georgiana was at a loss as to her feelings or opinions.

Georgiana received a bundle of letters on the third day from everyone in London. She joyfully read through them in the privacy of her room. Kitty's anecdotes about the various parties and gentlemen gave her much amusement. Elizabeth's letter was light-hearted, but she had some helpful advice in ignoring Lady Catherine. Some of them were meant to make her laugh, and did their duty admirably, but the others were practical. Her brother's letter offered her some advice, but it was more businesslike than before. All in all, the letters were her own little treasure that she hoarded in her room.

The next day was sunny and cheerful, a welcome break from the frigid weather. As she sketched a scene from the parlor window after breakfast, she mused that it would be a wonderful day for a drive. However, the lack of a suitable partner left her without this option for amusement. Losing herself in the daydream of riding across the fields, her pencil slid in her grasp, creating a thick streak across the page. Her hand ended up cupping her chin and she gazed at the fields with an intense longing.

Lord Rocheford, who had been pursuing various books on the table near her, noticed this change in her demeanor. At the moment, Lady Catherine was sufficiently preoccupied with reprimanding her daughter for some misdeed so he took the opportunity.

"Longing for the outdoors, Miss Darcy?" He asked quietly, startling her.

"Oh... yes," she replied, obviously flustered. She concentrated on erasing the stray pencil mark so she would not be forced to look at him.

"It is still a bit too muddy for a walk, do you agree?" He continued.

"Yes, but it would be pleasant for a ride," she responded without much though, still concentrating on the paper.

"Do you ride?" He asked eagerly, happy to have found a topic she mentioned.

"Yes, as often as I can. It is almost impossible to live at Pemberley and not ride," she continued, still avoiding his gaze.

"Lord Rocheford! I should like your opinion on this matter," Lady Catherine called from the other side of the room.

"Of course, your Ladyship," his initial annoyance was replaced by a look of mischief. "Miss Darcy and I were just discussing how agreeable it would be to take a ride this afternoon. Does that sound like a great plan, Miss De Bourgh?"

"Delightful, but unfortunately Anne's health did not permit her to learn," Lady Catherine rudely interjected before Anne could even open her mouth.

"Ah, but if I am not mistaken, I believe you have a charming little phaeton," he countered, still addressing Anne.

"I do," she replied softly, astonishing both him and her mother.

"Perfect! Than all of us can go for a ride this afternoon. I am sure Mrs. Jenkins would have no objection to coming along," he concluded with evident self-satisfaction.

With Mrs. Jenkins' assent, Lady Catherine grudgingly added hers as well. Georgiana was grateful for his effort to get all of them out of the house for the nice weather. She knew that Anne always loved a ride and any escape from Lady Catherine was certainly welcome.

Down at the stables, Georgiana selected a chestnut mare that the stable hand said was very docile. She easily got on the horse and waited patiently for the ponies to be hitched to the phaeton. The mare needed only a light hand on the reins and was very easy to manage. They were soon underway and followed the road towards the Parsonage. Unfortunately, they were obliged to stop and visit with Mr. Collins for a few minutes. Thankfully the presence of Lord Rocheford allowed the visit to end rather quickly and they continued on their expedition.

Georgiana and Lord Rocheford stayed ahead of the phaeton and struck up a halting conversation. They briefly discussed horses before returning to a topic that was mutually pleasing: music. This time Georgiana did justice to her passion for Mozart and did admit to a healthy respect for Haydn. She was not aware of how much she was speaking due to his easy questioning and entertaining manner. The broodiness with which he had seemed previously afflicted with was gone. Meanwhile, the occupants of the phaeton noticed the increased conversation between their notoriously silent companions and commented on it to the other.

Any fears they entertained were cast in doubt by the attentiveness Lord Rocheford paid to them. Whenever the road was wider and another carriage easy to spot, he would pull his horse next to them and engage in conversation. Georgiana would follow suit, but the nature of the roads most often left her stranded in the front. This left her with time to compose herself, banish any foolish thoughts and dig up enough courage for another conversation.

That evening at supper, she could not help but steal glances at him throughout the meal. Each time she caught herself, she would be suddenly reminded of Wickham and her brother's insistence that she be always on her guard. This only served to compare the two and put their differences in sharper relief. Afterwards, her aunt called upon her to play for them, which she happily obliged. She selected a piece she was not entirely comfortable with so that her mind would not wander. Even then, she could feel his gaze rest on her while she played. It was even more prominent when she played some easier pieces and her mind did roam, as she had feared.

The next few days showed an increase in their conversation. He would often come and speak with her and she could not deny that she anticipated these talks. Her face would light up of its own accord whenever he entered the room and she remained unaware of the other gaze following her throughout the day. They had had a long discussion of art after he found her wandering the art gallery and had dutifully covered both of their families. Aside from Annette and Josephine, she found out that he had two more sisters and a younger brother who was the baby. His father had passed away a little under a year ago and he still wore mourning for him. His mother remained with his siblings and took vigilant care of them all.

Georgiana was honest enough with herself to admit that she was beginning to form an attachment for him. It was hard not to as he was so kind and shared many of her interests. He was also quite handsome, but dwelling on that made her feel too much like Kitty. She decided to write to Elizabeth to ask her opinion on her situation. She was halfway through writing the letter when a servant knocked on her door and entered.

"Excuse me, miss. Lady Catherine is requesting your presence in her private parlor."


	11. Fickle Fortune

_Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Jane Austen. I can only really claim Lord Rocheford..._

**Fickle Fortune**

Georgiana paused in front of the imposing mahogany doors leading into Lady Catherine's parlor. She could not fathom why she had been summoned and could only hope that it was not so Lady Catherine could purge herself of more insults regarding Elizabeth. The liveried servant stood at the doors watching her with a bemused, almost sadistic grin. Sizing up the girl, he doubted she would have the fortitude to leave the room without dissolving in tears. Whenever someone was called to the private parlor, it normally signaled great displeasure on Lady Catherine's part. He could remember almost every instance, though the times when Miss Anne entered seemed to run together.

Judging that she had had a decent amount of time to instill her composure, he dragged open the heavy doors and announced her presence. The door closed behind her with a dull thud of finality. Oppressive shades filtered little light as Lady Catherine leered from the imperial armchair set like a throne at the head of the room. Georgiana bowed and ventured forward. She was stiffly acknowledged, but no move was made by Lady Catherine to allow her to sit. Standing in front of her aunt in the depressive gloom, she began to grow fearful of the communication. Her initial fears jumped to the health and safety of her family, but Lady Catherine seemed quite content on taking her time and enjoying her discomfort. She had almost mustered up the courage to ask why she had been called when Lady Catherine straightened and began.

"You have changed greatly, Georgiana," the dowager began gravely, her shrewd eyes quick to notice the expressions on her face. "But not for the better. Your mother would be astonished, not to mention most disappointed, in both you and your brother."

Georgiana could not prevent the surprise that flooded her features. She could tell Lady Catherine was controlling her voice for the time being and the forced calmness unnerved her.

"That tart your brother has had the stupidity of marrying is certainly ruining you with her country values. I have seen a growing impertinence within you when you were once so docile and quiet. She is corrupting you, Georgiana, and you are too blind to see it!"

Her voice was starting to grow louder and Georgiana fought to keep her composure.

"I see you do not believe me. It does not matter for at least I have the intelligence enough to understand people completely! She is a money-hunter and shall forever be one. Why else would she bewitch my nephew and turn him from his cousin when all honor and duty bound them together? Now she has turned you into herself! Do not think I am ignorant of the glances you share with Lord Rocheford! The smiles and absentmindedness, I am aware of all that occurs in my house. That insolent country girl has corrupted you to finish her work and I will not let anyone prevent Lord Rocheford from marrying my Anne!"

Lady Catherine paused briefly for breath while Georgiana looked on with a bewildered expression. She had not realized how transparent her emotions had been, but her aunt was not making much sense.

"Has he told you the full reason for his visit?"

Georgiana mutely shook her head and Lady Catherine's eyes gleamed with a malicious satisfaction.

"Well, he is here to become better acquainted with Anne, not to waste time with you. His late father was an intimate friend of your uncle. After your brother's betrayal, I asked for his assistance. On his deathbed, he bound his son to marrying Anne. It will be a grand alliance and I will not have anyone depriving my Anne of her due!"

Her voice had reached its usual pitch and the servant outside grinned in pleasure. Georgiana stared, head bowed, at the intricate rug. Its pattern was becoming steadily blurred by tears that she struggled, in vain, to repress. The anger and injustice she felt for Elizabeth and herself paled under the overwhelming sense of loss, stupidity, and pain. She had been duped once again by men. Her own foolishness and susceptibility to romantic notions had come back to haunt her. Why did such men always plague her?

Lady Catherine watched her silently, too aware of all the emotions that Georgiana tried to hide. She was satisfied that her object had been completed. Her daughter was safe.

"I am sorry, Georgiana, but you understand that I could not allow such things to develop under my roof. Though your brother has disgraced the family, I will not allow it to continue with his sister."

Georgiana's cheeks burned with shame from her previous incident and practically flamed when Lady Catherine continued, adding how ashamed her mother would have been over such behavior. She nodded her head and excused herself. The servant heard her approaching and hurriedly opened the door for her. Upon seeing her face and the tears flowing freely, he prided himself on assessing her accurately enough. Very few girls had ever come out without shedding a few tears at least.

She turned down the corridor, unconscious of where she was going. Pulling out a handkerchief to try to stem the tears did not help in the slightest. Her strongest desire was to leave and escape this torment. She crossed the main hallway when a voice called her name.

It was a voice she could easily recognize, but she tried to ignore it. Unfortunately her hesitation was too long and he quickly overtook her.

"Miss Darcy! What is the matter? What has happened?"

She looked up at him, his misleading eyes of sincerity, and shook her head, promptly turning around. He easily blocked her path again and demanded an answer. Again she shook her head and tried to pass him. He gently grabbed her hands and forced her to look at him.

"What has happened?" She felt herself beginning to believe his concern, but blinked and forced her gaze to the floor. Heaving in a steadying breath, she stuttered out her reply.

"Just s-s-some distr-tressing news, that is all. I-I'm just r-returning t-to my room."

"Let me escort you there, Miss Darcy."

He was prevented from continuing on by the frightened expression that widened her eyes and the violent shaking of her curls back and forth.

"I-I'll be q-quite alright, I a-assure you."

She quickly withdrew her hands and sped down the hallway, the handkerchief failing to be of any use. Lord Rocheford stared after her completely bewildered. He could not comprehend the sudden change in the girl who had looked at him so fondly only that morning. Too much the gentleman to continue after her, he was left staring at his hands where hers had been moments before. The expression on her face and the amount of her agitation led him to believe that the culprit of such distressing news could only be Lady Catherine.

His suspicions were confirmed upon entering the winter parlor. Lady Catherine was seated regally on a large chair flanked by her daughter and Mrs. Jenkinson. She was imparting the contents of a conversation she had recently had with a Mrs. Scotfield who had praised her Ladyship's recommendation for her drawing room. Only Mrs. Jenkinson seemed to be paying any attention as Anne seemed lost in her thoughts. He crossed the room and the smug look on Lady Catherine's face was unmistakable. Anger flashed through him instantly and he was very stiff in his manner towards her. Anne was observing him intently with a pensive look. She caught his eye and pointedly asked him a question.

"Have you seen Georgiana today?"

There was no mistaking the hidden meaning behind the words. He looked straight back at her and replied.

"She retired to her room for the day." Anne nodded in perfect comprehension. Lady Catherine looked almost elated.

"It is a shame," her Ladyship stated. "The Collins' will miss her company for dinner."

She dominated the conversation with various anecdotes until luncheon. Afterwards, she almost ruptured with pleasure when Lord Rocheford suggested taking a stroll with Anne. Her good cheer did not curb her curtness in lecturing her daughter to dress with special care in order to maintain her little health. After detaining them for almost a half hour, Lady Catherine finally retired for a brief rest.

The frosty autumn air greeted them when they finally reached the gardens. They stayed within an easy distance of the house, but were insured some measure of privacy. Silence filled the majority of their time before he could not contain himself any longer.

"I understand Lady Catherine talked with Miss Darcy this morning," he asked, hoping he did not sound too eager.

"Yes," Anne replied softly, full of empathy. "Poor child, nothing pleasant comes from Mother's private conversations."

"Do you know what was discussed?" He inquired hesitantly, watching her face carefully.

"Our engagement," she whispered, turning her face to hide the emotions flying across it.

The atmosphere between them grew colder and more uncomfortable. They both purposefully avoided the other's gaze and silence reigned again. Lord Rocheford was intent on avoiding further embarrassment. It was obvious to him that he had not been as discreet as he had wished. Anger against that old dowager also ruled his thoughts. She was the one who had brought such torment on the girl and on him.

Anne continued in her own depressing thoughts. After a few more minutes of awkwardness, she stated her desire to return to the house. Lord Rocheford retreated from his musings long enough to see her safely inside. After leaving her in the drawing room, he stated business that he needed to take care of in his room and vanished until supper.

* * *

Brittle leaves chased each other past the window where Georgiana sat with unseeing eyes. Her tears had dried up to be replaced with a sullenness that seemed to settle like a weight upon her. She had only her stupidity to comfort her and the knowledge that she had been willfully deceived. Such companions made the oppressive grayness beyond the window seem welcoming. 

The letter she had been writing to Elizabeth still lay on the table, beckoning her to re-live her foolish romantic ideas. A maid had come in a half hour before to light a fire and bring up some dinner. The meal lay barely touched, but the tea had disappeared instantly. Screeching birds raced each other and startled her from her reverie. Unwrapping the shawl wound tightly around her slim shoulders, she crossed the room towards the table and picked up the letter. Her eyes immediately flew to the incriminating paragraph she had been in the middle of writing.

_Dear sister, there is a matter that I urgently need to discuss with you. I must confess myself forming an attachment for Lord Rocheford, a very strong one I fear. Oh, Elizabeth, I know not what to do! He is so kind and gentle, yet how can I be certain that he shares the same feelings. I think he does, but I am so horribly confused. The matter has begun invading my thoughts and I do not know -_

She sighed as fresh tears pooled again. Wiping them hastily away, she crumpled the letter and flung it in the fire. She watched with gloomy fascination as the paper slowly burned, erasing the evidence of her foolish infatuation. Now the only proof of her false hopes disintegrated into a pile of ash. Turning back to face the room, her melancholy deepened. There were still five more days left to her stay and she knew she would not be able to hide forever. Stumbling forward, she found her sketchbook and settled on the couch. She began drawing the fireplace and the twisting fire beneath. Her mind still whirled with varying emotions as she tried to make sense of it all.

The pencil would move in different strokes, hard and light, as her feelings changed. She was so removed that she had no conscious notion of what her hand was creating. After a while she stared at her drawing and burst into fresh tears. The same fireplace stared at her with its dying fire and two figures before it. A gentleman leaned against the mantle, his face largely in shadow from the fading light, and a lady staring at the ground, her curls blocking her expression. Though the faces were hidden, she knew who they were. Angry with herself for her continued foolishness, she walked quickly towards the window. The light was just beginning to fade. Pulling on her pelisse, gloves and bonnet, she informed her maid that she would be out for a walk.

The biting air brought a sort of clarity to her senses. She unconsciously headed towards her favorite walk hidden in the Park. The looming trees gave her a false sense of security and allowed her the peace of atmosphere to think. She paced the walk as darkness slowly descended. Watching the sky, she saw they soft gray change to a mysterious purple before merging into a darker gray. A small bird admonished her from a nearby tree and scolded her inside. She smiled at the little thing and took its warning.

Her spirits were calmed and the emotions, though not settled, were subdued. Just as she began thinking that she might be able to survive the next day, she encountered a lone figure in the entrance hall. Pleading eyes looked into hers and she felt compelled to follow, though she was confident that nothing pleasant could come of it. She followed the figure up the stairs to an old unused room and waiting patiently for her to begin.

"Georgiana," Anne began, sinking heavily into an ancient chair. "Do sit, dear. I have convinced Mother that I am truly not well tonight. I wished to speak with you and I do not enjoy Mr. Collins' company any more than most."

Georgiana sat silently and waited for her cousin to continue. She could not understand the reason for this meeting. A look of concern passed over her as her cousin paused and cough painfully into her handkerchief.

"Are you fine, Anne? Should I have water fetched for you?" She asked kindly.

"No!" Anne replied, with a force that startled Georgiana. She drew a racking breath and continued. "My mother cannot know we are speaking, unless you wish to endure her wrath again. I want to apologize for everything she said to you, Georgiana. She should never have done that. Lord Rocheford and I had no knowledge of the conversation until after it had occurred, though I knew she was aware of your growing attachment to him."

Georgiana could not prevent a small blush from crawling up her face and Anne paused again to cough.

"I know not what she said, but I know how unpleasant she can be. She was so abusive to your brother." Anne drew in a breath and sighed. "Georgiana, I am not well. I have not been for these past seven years. As soon as I reached my majority, when I should have gone to London and been presented, I fell deathly ill. My strength never recovered fully and I am blessed to have lived thus far."

Again she coughed violently into her handkerchief. Georgiana looked on with pitying eyes and she could feel her overworked eyes begin to water.

"I am dying, Georgiana. I have this feeling that I will not be here for much longer. I cannot explain it. Oh, cousin, you know not how your brother broke my heart. I thought he might have been my savior, my old playmate becoming my hero. But I knew from the beginning that he had no real fondness for me beyond pity. Had Miss Bennet not come, he's sense of duty might have been prevailed upon."

A distant clock chimed as she paused.

"I do not blame your brother, Georgiana. I had no right to make his life unhappy. We all wish to marry for love. I am not blind. Though I rarely speak, I see everything, even now. He loves you, Georgiana, of that I am certain. I-"

Her body shook from the ragged cough and Georgiana rushed to her side. Sitting next to her, she held her cousin as the attack subsided. Her heart was beginning to throb painfully. It did not matter now whether he loved her or not, Lady Catherine had decreed otherwise. Anne continued on, desperation creeping into her voice.

"I have no choice, nor does he. His father bound his inheritance until he married me. It pains me everyday to see the way he looks at you and know that no one will ever see me that way. I cannot bare to separate you two, but our lives are not our own!"

Tears had begun falling down the faces of the two cousins. Anne's voiced had cracked and convulsions bent her body as the illness overtook her again. Georgiana reached forward and wiped her cousin's tears with her own sodden handkerchief.

"I know I have nothing to fear from him, he is too kind and a perfect gentleman. I shall not make him happy; I have failed at the first part of being a wife. He knows not the pleasure I will receive from leaving this place, but freedom comes at a price, does it not?"

She stared meaningfully at Georgiana before whispering, "I am sorry, Georgiana."

Moonlight fell on the two embracing cousins, the two broken hearts full of sorrow and tears.

* * *

"Lizzy!" 

"Yes, Kitty?"

"I have the greatest news," the girl cried out as ran into the room. Placing the piece of paper on top of Elizabeth's letters, she grinned widely. "Mr. and Mrs. Folsom are hosting a ball! Isn't it grand Lizzy! Oh, I do wish Georgiana were here. Does she really not arrive until Saturday?"

"Yes. We will have our day of rest and travel on Monday. When is this ball?" She replied, looking at the gilded invitation before her.

"Friday night. I can wear that pretty new gown we got, the blue-green one, remember? Oh, it shall be delightful. I know Mr. Stafford will be there because Rosanna, Rosanna Whitney, heard of it from Mrs. Folsom herself!"

"Kitty," Elizabeth said sharply, looking right at her sister who stopped her rambling at once.

"Oh, I was doing it again, wasn't I?" She asked, feeling ashamed.

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, but I am more concerned about this Mr. Stafford."

"He is a charming man, Lizzy! He is kind, funny and frightfully handsome!" Kitty interrupted passionately.

"That he may be, but you have only met him a few times. It is impossible to know someone's true character. I just wish you would be more on your guard and in check of showing your emotions. These are not officers, Kitty. We are leaving in less than a week, you would do well to remember that."

Kitty stayed silent, staring moodily at her sister. Elizabeth sighed. "You had best go and change. I thought we might go to the shops for a bit before meeting our Aunt and Uncle."

Kitty's face lit up immediately and she scurried out of the room at top speed. Fitzwilliam entered soon after she left and saw a very worried Elizabeth.

"What is wrong, my dear?" He asked quietly, drawing a chair up to her desk. She leaned back and closed her eyes with a sigh.

"I sometimes wonder if I have helped Kitty at all. It seems as though no matter what we do, Lydia still lurks there. Her infatuation for Mr. Stafford worries me. I do not think she would do anything rash, she is not as forward as Lydia, but there is something that I do not like. I cannot place it, but it just does not sit well."

"Believe me, Elizabeth, Kitty has changed a great deal," he replied, playing with one of her curls and causing her eyes to open. "Lydia influenced her for years, so she will never be truly gone. Kitty is much more tolerable than she was before. She has grown on me."

Elizabeth gave her husband a small smile. "As for this Mr. Stafford, you said it yourself, she is not as rash as Lydia. I think she should be safe on that front."

She frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, completely."

"Then I am too, but I wonder if she will regress when we return to Hertfordshire. Surely the influence of my mother and aunt will not be advantageous," she replied.

"Certainly not, but she will be staying with the Bingley's, so you have no cause for worry. A little regression is expected, but she may surprise you," he comforted.

"Unless Mama insists on having her home," she said with a slight touch of resignation. He noticed her discomfort as she looked out the window and subtly avoided his gaze. Catching her hand, he gently turned her head to face him.

"What else is worrying you?"

She bit her lip and hesitated before replying. "Georgiana."

She felt him immediately stiffen and his face become sharp and alert. "What has she written? What has that woman done?"

"It has nothing to do with Lady Catherine and it is not about what she writes. It is about what she did not write."

"I do not understand."

Elizabeth was past master at deciphering feelings and moods through letters as she had done it so often with Jane. Pulling out Georgiana's letters from her trip, she called his attention to certain paragraphs.

"She has constantly been mentioning Lord Rocheford, do you remember him from the Kellaway's ball? Miss Rowndell was chiefly behind them getting to dance together, but he refused. He is in mourning for his father. I cannot understand why he is with Lady Catherine, of all people, but she has taken notice of him."

"My uncle was a good friend with the late Lord Rocheford. They went to school together, I believe. Has she developed an attachment for him?"

"Judging by her last letter, it would seem so. It is obvious that she prefers his company to anyone else's there."

"Well, given the company..." He replied with a devious smirk.

"Behave," she admonished. "But it is more than that. By what she mentions of their conversations, it would seem as if she is encouraged. She is not the kind to be forming any attachment without knowing the feeling is returned."

"So you are worried that she's formed an attachment? Is this man respectable?"

"Yes and he is, but that is not my chief worry. In the letter I received today, she never mentions him once. I do not know what to make of it. Had they quarreled, she would have said something, but it is as if he vanished. Even then, she would have said something!" Elizabeth was entirely perplexed.

Fitzwilliam's look darkened. "If that man laid a hand on her... so help me God!"

"Fitzwilliam!" She said in fierce whisper. "We do not know the complete story. It is possible, but nothing can be done before she returns. It might be nothing of the sort."

"Then my aunt has interfered in some way. I was foolish to let her go! I should have known something would happen!"

"None of us can divine the future, Fitzwilliam," she replied sternly. "It will do you no good to dwell on the past. Whatever has happened has happened. We can do nothing until she comes back."

A timid knock on the door interrupted them. Kitty stood at the open doorway looking very embarrassed.

"The door was already open, I'm sorry."

Elizabeth sighed again. "Do not worry, Kitty. Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes," she replied eagerly.

"Where are you going? We are invited to the Gardiner's for supper, are we not?" Fitzwilliam asked.

"Yes, we are. Kitty and I thought we might stop in at a few shops this afternoon before we leave. Would you care to join us?"

As much as he loved his wife, an afternoon spent in multiple shops was not very appealing. "Not today, I still have business to take care of."

Elizabeth gave him a knowing smile. "Very well. Are you in need of anything?"

"No. Shall we leave at seven?"

"Yes, that would be perfect," she replied, giving him a kiss before fetching her things.

* * *

Kitty could barely contain her excitement as they carriage rolled to a stop outside the Folsom's. They were exorbitantly wealthy, but generally kind people. She did not have much care for the family and she was mainly concerned with meeting Mr. Stafford. Elizabeth watched her carefully, noticing her impatience to reach the door. She called to her sister to keep her from getting too far ahead. Just before they entered, she reminded her to mind her manners and wait patiently through the greeting line at the entrance. 

Kitty could not help twisting around to see if she could find him, but was very attentive when she had to speak with the hosts. As soon as they were through, she gave Elizabeth a hurried good-bye before joining the Miss Whitney's to see if they had spotted him.

Elizabeth could not contain a small sigh as she watched her sister. Kitty would always be Kitty, it seemed. Fitzwilliam gently led her away and they met Miss Isabel Rowndell and Mr. Campwell.

"How is Georgiana?" Miss Isabel asked immediately after the formal greetings were over.

"She seems well. She will be returning tomorrow so we have little news from her," Elizabeth replied carefully as the men engaged their own conversation.

"I hope she had an agreeable time away from London. I am almost longing to return to the country again, myself. Some aspects of society tend to get rather trying," Miss Isabel stated, glancing over at the gossips corner.

"Indeed they do," Elizabeth agreed, watching as one of the ladies stared pointedly at a young lady who had just entered the room. The woman than hid her mouth behind her fan and whispered furiously to the old matron next to her. Elizabeth beheld the sight with a strong feeling on revulsion.

"Will you be spending the rest of the season in London?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes," she replied with little enthusiasm. "But we shall be journeying to the country at the beginning of spring. The winter months do get rather dull."

"You are full of facts today," Elizabeth stated with good humor.

Miss Isabel laughed. "I try very hard. Do you think it would be possible, Mrs. Darcy, for Georgiana to come visit us in the spring? You are all welcome, if you like, but I can understand the attraction of finally being home. It is just a thought. We all dearly love her company."

"We shall see. I am not quite sure what our plans are at the moment, nor how long our stay in Hertfordshire will last," Elizabeth replied truthfully.

"I understand. One can never tell with family," she stated. At that moment, Mr. Campwell came over and asked for Miss Isabel's hand as the orchestra began the beginning chords of the dance. They excused themselves and lined up in the set.

"You look quite remarkable this evening, Mrs. Darcy," Fitzwilliam said softly beside her. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

"Yes, sir, with pleasure," she replied with a grin. They stood at the end of the set just as the music began. With a jolt of surprise, she recognized the song as the one they had first danced to together at Netherfield. Seeing his smirking eyes, she knew he had had prior knowledge of the dance.

"You are incorrigible, do you know that?"

"Yes, but it seems my darling wife has brought out that side of me. You must speak to her, if you have the chance, she is very witty," He replied swiftly as they parted. It was all she could do to not shake her head.

"There are quite a lot of couples here tonight, are they not?" She asked, her eyes gleaming in mischief when they met again.

"Yes, quite remarkable that they fit pleasantly in the room," he replied, enjoying the banter.

After a few moments of silence, he ventured again.

"We seem to be masters of talking by rule, though is it still agreeable to both parties?" He asked, his expression too much for her. She burst out in laughter and was rewarded with his grinning face. They began talking about various things and it could be seen by all, even the relentless, plaguing gossips, that they were very much in love. Most of them discredited it as young love, certain to bring unhappiness in the future years.

As Elizabeth whirled through the dance, she passed by Miss Bingley and was rather surprised to see her. She asked Fitzwilliam and he was as puzzled as she, though he looked slightly worried. Miss Bingley's predatory nature had only lessened minimally upon his marriage. Thinking no more of her, the Darcy's were pleasantly engaged for the next dance before deciding it would be proper of them to mingle in society.

They walked arm and arm to various groups of couples with Elizabeth doing the majority of the talking. Even so, she kept her eyes open for any sign of Kitty. She had seen her dancing a few times, but then she seemed to have disappeared. She was chatting pleasantly with the new Mrs. Barton when she saw Miss Bingley, along with a friend of hers, sidle over to the group where Fitzwilliam was engaged. Although Elizabeth tried to leave, Mrs. Barton seemed intent on knowing all about the delights of town having just arrived a few days previous. Elizabeth watched Miss Bingley in surprise as the woman paid a passing comment to Fitzwilliam before devoting her attention to the man next to him.

Mrs. Barton spotted a few of her acquaintances and hurriedly excused herself. Thankful for the escape, Elizabeth walked as quickly as she dared to reach the group.

"Mrs. Darcy, how wonderful to see you," Miss Bingley greeted with her usual sneer and fake smile that never reached her eyes. Her arm was locked on the man who seemed to be of her ilk.

"The same to you, Miss Bingley," she replied neutrally, clasping her hands in front. "Are you still planning on coming to Netherfield for the holidays?"

"Of course, I should not miss it," Miss Bingley replied, her nose rising, if possible, even higher.

"I wondered, as your relations had not heard from you in quite a while. They almost despaired of you still being in London!" Elizabeth stated with a look that passed as innocent.

"Indeed, my letter must have been misdirected," she responded coldly, shooting daggers at Elizabeth. She then turned to the man and presently ignored her. Content that she had had the upper hand, Elizabeth focused her attention to the other couple in the group until supper was announced. As they made their way to the dining room, Fitzwilliam whispered to his wife.

"You were much more tolerant than I should have been. I am mightily impressed. Putting her in her place while remaining inside the lines of propriety? You truly are the Mistress of Pemberley."

Elizabeth laughed and leaned closer on his arm as they entered the dining room. Kitty thankfully appeared before the meal began and they were pleasantly engaged throughout supper. As soon as the desert was cleared away, a handsome young man arrived to claim Kitty's hand.

"Lizzy, meet Mr. Stafford. Mr. Stafford, my sister, Mrs. Darcy," Kitty introduced, blushing as she did so.

"Delighted to meet you," he replied charmingly, gallantly kissing her gloved hand.

"The pleasure is shared," she stated calmly, but slightly frowning at his forwardness.

"Mr. Darcy, I presume?" He asked, observing Fitzwilliam's poorly disguised glares.

"Yes," he said curtly, acknowledging the man with a stiff nod.

"An honor, sir," he replied with a brief bow. Turning to Lizzy, he continued. "May I have the honor of escorting your sister back to the dance, Mrs. Darcy?"

"Of course, sir," she said easily, though her eyes were watching him carefully.

"Thank you, ma'am," he stated before taking Kitty's hand and heading towards the next room.

Elizabeth could easily see that Kitty was very much taken with this man. He was handsome and certainly well off judging by his manner of dress and the conversations she had overheard. This lead her to the inevitable question, why was he with Kitty? She had no great beauty and was still rather silly, but she shook off her hypocritical notions. If Fitzwilliam had married her, why was it not possible that another well-off man fancied her sister?

"I do not like him," Fitzwilliam stated in a low voice, offering her his hand. "There is something about him I do not like. He is too much like _him_."

"I agree, but we shall be gone in few days time. We shall not see him again," Elizabeth reasoned.

"Such men never seem to vanish," he replied quietly. They reentered the ballroom with a much more somber mood. Elizabeth easily perceived that Kitty was not there. She was about to search when she was met by a sharp old dowager who would not be displeased.

* * *

"Oh Charles, it is dreadful! I shan't see you again! You will write me, won't you? It will be so dreadfully dull in the country. How I wish I could never leave London!" Kitty cried, pacing in agitation. 

There were hidden in one of the alcoves off the second hallway where the din of the ball could be just faintly heard. Only a few candles had been lit leaving them in semi-darkness. Swirling clouds of infamous London fog covered the window behind them and a slight draft was creeping towards them.

"Do not worry, Kitty," Mr. Stafford replied gently, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I will write faithfully. Perhaps we can persuade your sister to have you come visit my sister, and me, or perhaps we could visit you. I know she would love meeting you."

Kitty looked at him with obvious adoration and she could feel the blush on her cheeks even if he could not see it. "That would be wonderful. I shall ask her over the holidays. How long will you be in London?"

"Until Spring, I believe. Then I hope to visit you," he replied as his eyes never left hers.

His head moved closer to hers and Kitty's eyes widened in shock before leaning closer to him.

* * *

The pounding of the black stallion's hooves raced with his heart as he galloped across the wide stretch of road. His cheeks were stinging from the biting wind that was made stronger from sheer speed. He was trying to flee, to escape the environs of Rosings and all it contained, if only for a brief period of time. Vainly wishing that the wind would sweep away all of his problems with it, he continued until even the park was well behind him. He gradually slowed the horse down before it tired itself and settled on a brisk ride on the roads. Unfortunately, with the thrill gone, his mind was given over to thoughts, many of which continued to be unpleasant. 

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, all because of meddling old nobles. His father bound his inheritance in a marriage connived by that vicious hag. He was a grown man, capable of his own decisions, not some reckless new dandy! That phase had passed a few years ago with relatively little harm. It had taught him quite a few lessons about women and their overbearing mothers. Now he was torn between love and duty. It was a place he had never wished to be.

He could not abandon Anne. Her lot was worse than his and he was bound to her. The desperate hope that glimmered in her eyes when he had arrived and revealed his father's will was that of a slave offered a taste of freedom. She was stuck with that horrid woman everyday and he admired her fortitude and sense. Her favorite retreat had been the library where her mother scarcely went since she was convinced she knew everything already. He knew her to be a kindhearted girl with a great deal of practical sense, but he did not love her. Aside from her being sickly, it was a match to be applauded in all respects, as their situations in life were so similar.

But love. It was everyone's greatest dream to marry for love, not necessity. He had always believed that he could find his perfect partner without having to compromise anything. Fate and Fortune were fickle mistresses. The perfect partner had been found, but she was unattainable.

Georgiana had captured his heart the first time he saw her at Rosings. They had not really met at the ball and at that point he had been in no humor to be agreeable to anyone. He found her shyness and awkwardness endearing and he felt obliged to help her, almost like she was one of his sisters' friends. She was naturally kind and the attention she paid to Mrs. Collins out of deference to her sister farther recommended her to him. He admired her loyalty to her siblings, even through Lady Catherine's ill-mannered attacks. They had common interests and even held many of the same pursuits and tastes. They were equals in mind, fortune and situation. He had not known until it was too late that he was in love with her.

Thus he was in this predicament. She refused to talk to him, avoided his company and as a result, he had not seen her in three days. The knowledge that she was being wise frustrated him even more. His mind warred with his heart and was trying to make it see reason. It was his misfortune that love is blind.

He trudged back to Rosings with a heavier heart. The ride had done nothing but increase his frustration. He had already resigned himself to duty; there was nothing else to be done. Even if he abandoned Anne for Georgiana, he would have naught a halfpenny to his name. He could not force that sort of existence on her. Anne he could at least respect, but the forthcoming years looked as bleak as the dreary, gray winter's sky.

The wind had increased and felt like a hand pushing him towards Rosings and doom. Mother Nature seemed to have sided with Fate and Fortune by adding insult to injury. He saw a figure farther down the path in the park. Though it was too far away to distinguish anything beyond its sex, he instinctively knew it was Georgiana. He hesitated for a moment before pushing his horse in a faster walk. He saw her look back at the noise and fear crossed her face as soon as she saw him. Even from the closing distance, he could see her trying to walk quicker.

Unfortunately, the wind had been twisting her skirts and making it difficult to walk. With her new goal in mind, she tripped and fell over a large protruding root from an ancient tree. She watched in horror as her paint box sprang open creating a beautiful rainbow on the dead, brown ground. Wilhelmina's sketch was ripped out of her hands and floated haphazardly in front of her. She scrambled forward and raced after it before any harm could be done to it. Relief filled her as she caught it wedged between two bushes. Carrying it back to her paint box, she vainly tried to rescue her colors.

Kneeling on the ground, she tried to ignore the thudding hooves as they stopped in front of her and the pair of boots that dropped down beside it. She stared determinedly at the ground and remained intent on her task.

"Let me help," a deep voice stated before kneeling down across from her. She did not need to look up to know who the owner was.

The brief task was completed in silence, but she could not prevent a blush when there hands meet as they shut the box. Standing up, he kept the paint box and insisted on escorting her back to the house. He placed it in a saddlebag, took the reins of his horse and followed her down the path. She refused to look back and her rigid back was the only thing he saw. Something in him warned him not to let this moment pass. He knew he had to say something, but what was the question.

"Miss Darcy," he began, suddenly stopping.

She halted as well, but continued staring at the ground.

"Miss Darcy, I am heartily sorry for whatever trouble I have caused. I was not aware of the violence of Lady Catherine's temper and I did not think she would ever behave in such a manner. If I have offended you in anyway or caused you pain, I sincerely apologize."

She nodded her head, staring forlornly and trying to banish the tears welling up once again. Taking a deep breath she stated, "What is done, is done, Lord Rocheford. We cannot change the past."

With that, she sped down the path away from him.

"Georgiana!" He cried after her with longing in his eyes and a crestfallen face. His hand lay outstretched, grasping for something that could never be gained.

Georgiana could not stop the tears splashing down her face. Anne said that he loved her, but she could not believe it. He was promised to Anne, not herself. Wickham had said he loved her, but he had only been after her money. Mr. Levine had seemed sincere, but that was just a fleeting attachment. Love, that cruel, fickle word, had taunted her again with all the promise inherent in it.

As before, love had deceived her.

* * *

_So, I've decided that I'll start posting my notes down here. My muse has been equally fickle with this chapter and would leave at the most inopportune times. I had two different endings to this chapter, but decided that I wanted people to get to know Lord Rocheford a bit more. It was hard. Each beta agreed to a different ending. Sorry DeSilva. But thanks to both DeSilva and Mlle. Skywalker for their help with this chapter. Please let me know what you think of it. I haven't been less content with a chapter before._

_Excuse me while I have a good talk with my muse..._


	12. All Together Again

_Disclaimer: All the characters you know are the genius of Jane Austen. All the ones you don't are mine. _

**All Together Again  
**

The London fog had faded an hour before and was replaced by barren fields and villages. Silence, save for the normal clatter of the carriage and horses, reigned inside. Georgiana stared glumly out the window; her head resting upon her hand. The confining atmosphere of Rosings and her mortification over Lord Rocheford were left far behind as they made their way towards Netherfield. The brief respite in town had done nothing but increase her desire to be alone. The ball they had attended thrust Mr. Levine and Miss Selwyn into her presence and conjured up more embarrassment for her. All the old gossips were anxiously hoping for her to faint or lose her head over her previous favorite moving on to another, but when her only response was to become more withdrawn, they declared she was just as proud as ever. She wondered if it would just be better for her to remain in the country and forsake Town all together.

Kitty slept, her head jerking with every bump in the road. Elizabeth had kindly placed a pillow between Kitty and the window and was now humming the ballad from the latest opera. The light was slowly fading, tingeing the world in rosy light. Elizabeth glanced at her husband, his curly hair more alluring in the twilight, as he stoically read on.

A series of unfortunate occurrences had delayed their travel. Urgent business arrived for Fitzwilliam a half hour before their departure. The footman had fallen ill and a trunk broke as they were loading the carriages. However, once the business was seen to, they had a quick luncheon and departed.

The coachman made excellent time and they were but six miles from Netherfield when they paused to light the lanterns. Kitty awoke at the stop and began exclaiming about the familiar sights she could barely discern out the window.

"Look, Lizzy! Is that not the Hampstead's farm over there? I swear it must be and look! That's Maiden Hill where Lydia and I walked when there was never anything to do in Meryton. You can watch all the carriages coming by. Look, Lizzy! It's the Fairy Ring! You remember how we used to play there as children. The Lucases must be just around the bend."

Elizabeth failed to control her sister's exuberance, partly because she was eagerly taking in the familiar sights as well. As much as she loved Pemberley, there was something about Hertfordshire that would always remain with her. It was her main instructor in the ways of the world, yet held the bittersweet memories of childhood. She could recall the massive games of hide and seek they would play with the village children, the time when her and Jane had caught a nasty flu and could not move for most of the summer, and the first awkward years knowing that some of her male friends imagined themselves in love with her. While the two Bennet sisters were lost to nostalgia, the Darcy brethren exchanged small smiles. They knew their own excitement at viewing Pemberley after a long absence was just as heartfelt, if not as profuse.

A few more bends down the country road brought them to the shining entrance of Netherfield. Relief at their arrival and a desire for some good food hurried the traveler's from their carriage. The stately butler ushered them to the drawing room where the Bingleys eagerly awaited them. After the formalities were carried out, Elizabeth enveloped her sister in a warm embrace.

"Oh, Jane! It has been far too long. Let me have a good look at you now." With that exclamation, she released her sister and saw her continued radiance. Jane was as demure as ever, but looked just like an angel with the light of happiness and expected motherhood flooding her features. Though she showed that she was eight months along, Jane had never looked more beautiful.

Bingley's elation at their arrival was more than expected. He laughed and joked, keeping the younger ladies entertained while the older sisters had a few moments together. A look of supreme pride and satisfaction would grace him whenever he looked upon his wife. After a few moments of discussion, a cheerful maid announced supper. The travelers declined to change as they were eager for nourishment. They all gratefully tucked in to warm meal.

With the help of Jane and Bingely, they newcomers were made aware of all the changes in Meryton since their departure.

"What of the Lucases? How is Maria Lucas?" Kitty asked expectantly, eager for news of her friend.

Jane smiled benignly. "Maria Lucas is well. She is being courted by Walter Goulding. The young William Lucas is engaged to a lady he met in Town while going to University. Her name is Leonora... Leonora Trenton. She is well off, so Sir William said, but they are to have a long engagement. Her parents wish to wait until her elder sister gets married and that shall not be for another year at least. Mathias will go back to University after the holidays. How is Charlotte?"

There was a brief pause before Georgiana realized she had been addressed. She colored and answered. "She was quite well. Wilhelmina keeps both her and Lady Lucas well occupied. She is such an adorable little girl."

Jane smiled. "That is wonderful news. How did you find Kent? I hope you had a pleasant visit."

This time Georgiana's face paled and tension descended on the Darcy party. "It was quite pleasant, Mrs. Bingley."

"You can call me Jane, dear," Jane continued with her unending kindness and swiftly turned the conversation. "Was Town really that horrible, Lizzy?"

"Every bit of it," Lizzy grumbled, earning some laughs around the table. "I fully understand why Fitzwilliam dislikes it so."

"Oh come, it cannot have been that bad," Bingley countered jovially. "Aside from the simpering girls, the bold dandies, and the gossiping matrons, it usually is quite pleasant."

They all laughed and Georgiana even managed a smile, though she was very subdued for the rest of supper.

"How is Papa?" Elizabeth as the laughter from the last anecdote faded. Jane's face became troubled and Bingley's was laced with concern.

"He gets on, I suppose. He does not say much, though I know he is suffering. I know he has refused to see Mr. Jones and he insists that there is nothing wrong. I hope he will confide in you, Lizzy. You are his favorite."

Elizabeth let out a soft sigh at the added mission. "How is Mama? Has she not mentioned a word of it?"

If the mention of Kent had increased the travelers' tension, the mention of Mrs. Bennett raised alarm. Bingley's carefree countenance clouded and even Jane's radiant face was troubled.

"Mama is just as she ever was. She visits all the time to check on the child and me. Mary usually comes with her. I think she is finally in her bloom now that she has met Mr. Stadbury."

Kitty let out an undignified snort that earned her the condemnation of the table. She had the good sense to flush and feel ashamed. Soon after, dessert was finished and a general desire to retire was established. Jane bid them all good night and ascended the stairs with her husband who promised to meet Darcy in the library for a nightcap. A troupe of maids eagerly waited to see them to their rooms.

Maggie was already in Elizabeth's room, warm water steaming in the basin and a fresh nightgown waiting. Gratefully peeling off her well-worn clothes, Elizabeth washed up and settled to examine her room. The wardrobe was already full of her clothes and the table arranged with her brushes and jewelry. Her current volume occupied the place of honor next to the bedside. Smiling at Maggie, she dismissed her with a sincere thank you and a gentle good night.

She was admiring the ascent of the moon over the distant forest when a noise distracted her attention to the main room. Fitzwilliam stood in the doorway, contently watching his wife. With a small sigh, she crossed the room and wrapped herself in his welcoming embrace.

"I am going to wait for Bingley in the library. Should you desire anything from there?"

"I think I found my only delights the last time I was at Netherfield," she replied with a smile.

He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her hair. "Will you wait for me tonight?"

She pressed her head closer to his chest. "I shall try," she honestly replied. "But I am very tired from the traveling today."

"I understand," he stated, before pulling her back and placing a loving kiss on her upturned face. "Good night, Elizabeth."

"Good night, Fitzwilliam."

After a parting kiss, he ventured to the study. Elizabeth wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her and could not help a pang of loneliness. True, it was only one night and he was visiting a friend he had not seen in ages, but she knew she would have trouble sleeping that night. She always did when he was not by her side. Shaking her head, she pulled on her slippers and went down to Kitty's room.

"Is everything where you like it?" Elizabeth asked after being granted entrance. She stood just inside the doorway and surveyed the room.

The room seemed in order, though her painting set was set haphazardly on the desk in the corner. A half-finished piece lay out on the table and the smear of blue across Kitty's hands proved that she had already been at work.

"Yes, Lizzy. Everything is fine," Kitty replied with some agitation at being disturbed.

"Just making sure. Good night, Kitty."

"Good night." Kitty immediately turned back to her painting, unknowingly spreading the blue on her new white nightdress. Elizabeth smiled and quietly left. She journeyed down the hallway and knocked softly on Georgiana's door. The maid told her to wait but a few moments. Elizabeth took that time to admire the statue of Juno in the little alcove across the hall.

The maid exited the room and bobbed a quick curtsey, letting Elizabeth know she could join Georgiana. Elizabeth smiled at her and crossed into the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. Georgiana sat at the vanity brushing her hair. Sadness seemed to hang around the room and rested in her face. Elizabeth offered her a sympathetic smile and gently took over the task of brushing her hair. They sat in silence for a while, the crackling fire their only accompaniment for this tune.

"Georgiana," Elizabeth began gently. "Do you wish to tell me what happened at Rosings?"

Georgiana's eyes instantly flew to her lap where her hands were twisting in nervousness. "I... I would rather not. Not yet, at least."

Her eyes pleaded with Elizabeth who acknowledged her request with a smile. "Whenever you are ready, my dear. But may I ask you one question? I only ask to ease my worry and your brother's."

Georgiana watched her warily before letting Elizabeth continue. "I know it has something to do with Lord Rocheford. Yes, I am a past master at deciphering the true meanings in letters. We have never heard anything ill of him, but he has not... forced himself on you, has he?"

The soothing rhythm of the brush stopped and Georgiana blushed bright scarlet. "No! Never. He has always been the most perfect gentleman to me."

Elizabeth nodded and resumed her task. She gently patted the girl's shoulder. "I did not think so, but we wanted to be certain. It pains us to see you upset."

Silence descended on them again. After a while, Elizabeth made to leave. She gave her sister a heartfelt embrace and looked her steadily in the eyes. "I am always here for you and always ready to listen. I will even not tell your brother should you be embarrassed."

Tears appeared in Georgiana's eyes and she nodded. With a final embrace and good night, Elizabeth left. Georgiana was left with the disheartening memories of Rosings as her companions for the night. Elizabeth returned to her room and sank into the warm bed. She pulled out her book and settled in to read. Although nothing could be done to help alleviate Georgiana's problem, she felt contented that she had done all she could for now. Her book was a welcome distraction.

Fizwilliam softly entered the chamber a great while later and checked on his wife before calling his valet. Her book was flung next to her and she was wrapped up in the covers. All he could really see was her tumbling mass of curls at the top of the bed. He chuckled and turned to Travis. As he patiently waited to complete his evening ablutions, he reflected on the interview in the library.

_Bingley entered the room and quickly opened the bottle of brandy. Setting two tumblers on the table, he sat down and sighed. _

_"Is Jane well?" Fitzwilliam asked, taking a sip of the proffered drink. _

_"Yes, very well," Bingely replied. "She never complains, quite the opposite of her mother. I have to judge whether she is truly ill or not. She does not like to cause worry."_

_"She is an angel," Fitzwilliam mused._

_"She is indeed," Bingley agreed. "We have never quarreled. Well, we almost did. It was all my doing, at any rate. I was in quite a foul mood and then her mother ruined any thought of a quiet evening with Jane. I said some things that were rather unkind. Lord, Darcy! I made the poor thing cry! I could not live with myself and the next day she was so kind and understanding. That mortified me more then anything. I shall never be good enough for her."_

_They lapsed into silence until Bingley inquired about Darcy's domestic affairs. "Come, I'm sure you and Lizzy have had your own share of squabbles."_

_Darcy sighed. "Indeed we have. We are both quite obstinate, but we usually manage to work it out in the end. We've learned that we need to give each other some time alone before we say anything regrettable. There was one nasty scrape in the summer, due to my own irrational behavior. I do not think anything involving Wickham could provoke a rational response."_

_"Aye. Has he petitioned you for money as well?" Bingley asked sympathetically._

_"Not directly. Lydia sent a missive to Elizabeth pleading for income. I have done more than generosity demands for them and I refuse to encourage their licentious behavior," he added vehemently._

_"True. Jane and I have sent them some aid, but not that much. She cannot bare to think of her sister in such destitution."_

_"She is too much of an angel," Darcy grumbled._

_"It is the least we could do. They have a child now. I do not think he should be punished for the unthinking actions of his parents."_

_Darcy grudgingly agreed. Bingley picked up another topic. "How are the girls? Kitty seems much improved, but Georgiana seems... dejected, I suppose."_

_"Elizabeth has been marvelous for the both of them. They appear to compliment each other. Georgiana has helped give Kitty some sense and Kitty has helped Georgiana with her shyness. She spent some time in Kent with Lady Catherine. Needless to say, my aunt's influence has not been satisfactory."_

_Bingley grimaced. "I can well imagine. I remember when we had to visit her during the one vacation form University. I would not wish to repeat the experience."_

_"Just be thankful she is not your relation." After a pause, Darcy continued. "Is she really that horrible?"_

_"Lady Catherine?" Bingley asked in confusion._

_"No, no. Mrs. Bennet. Is she as insistent as before?"_

_Bingely's shoulders slumped and he took a meditative swig of brandy before continuing. "I love Jane dearly, but her mother practically lives here. When her father comes, they generally leave at a normal hour. But she usually comes with Mary and stays from breakfast 'til after dinner. Jane is most forgiving, but even she is beginning to weary of her presence. I know not what to do without causing grave offense. I try to escape to my study, but I cannot always leave Jane to suffer."_

_Darcy's brow frowned. "Has Mr. Bennet done nothing to control his wife?"_

_"He has," Bingely sighed. "But she is determined. He has tried reasoning with her and restricting the carriage. In that instance, she appeals to her sister and they both come. I hope Mr. Bennet will come tomorrow now that you and Elizabeth are here. When he comes we are sure to have a peaceful breakfast and a quiet dinner."_

_"Hang in there, Charles," Darcy comforted, downing the last of his drink. "I am sure that she will be less frequent once Jane has her child."_

_"I fear the opposite," Bingley replied, his eyes wide with that emotion. They left the library in lower spirits then when they had entered. _

"Thank you, Travis," Darcy said, finishing his ablutions and completing his reverie. He took the lone candle with him into the bedchamber. Setting it down on the night table, he retrieved Elizabeth's book, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and placed it on her table. The bed creaked as he entered it and briefly woke up Elizabeth.

"Fitzwilliam?" She asked groggily as he blew out the candle.

"Yes, love. Go back to sleep," he replied as his arms circled her.

She made an undecipherable noise and settled against him. Fitzwilliam kissed her hair and went to sleep.

* * *

A thin ray of light cut across the soft green and ivory canopy. Elizabeth groaned and closed her eyes only to have them open on their own accord a few seconds later. She glared at that sliver of light and grumpily rolled over on her side. A strangled growl echoed from her as she was blinded and quickly moved away from the offending sun. From the height of the pillows she was able to see the weak winter rays filtering through the crack in the thick heavy curtains. They were creeping slowly up the far wall and their bed. Elizabeth stretched with a yawn before immediately snatching her arm back under the warmth of the covers. The curtains had obviously failed in their task to block out the frigid winter air. Peering suspiciously at the grate, being careful to remain in the safety of the bed, she saw that the fire had died. She groaned again and flopped her head on her pillow in defeat. 

Turning her back to the curtains, she vainly tried to close her eyes and sleep. She kept twisting and turning and ended up staring back at the same malicious ray of light that had woken her. Though the bed was made of down and of very high quality, it was not _her_ bed.

She sighed and wished morning had not arrived so quickly. They had been at Netherfield for nearly a week and her family had come before breakfast every single day. Her father had only come the first two days in a valiant effort to control her mother and the keep the visits to a less wearisome length. Mrs. Bennet, however, swooped in on the third day dragging a yawning Mary along like a stubborn dog and insisted on remaining past dinner. Both Jane and Charles bore this intrusion with an admirable facade of calmness, though they occasionally expressed their displeasure in private. Elizabeth envied Fitzwilliam and Charles since they could escape to the library with various "business" matters. A part of her wished she had never come back and exposed Fitzwilliam to all of her family's follies again. She always felt mortified when her mother started on one of her usual shrill monologues on nothing of importance.

Sighing again, she did not look forward to the day with much pleasure and wished she could sleep the whole day. Wondering when the maid would come in and light the fire, she rolled over again and thought she might try to rest for a little while. Lord knew she would need it for another day of her mother. The same circuit started again as she tried to find a comfortable position to sleep. Eventually she pounded her pillow in frustration and groaned loudly. A strong arm prevented her from turning completely again.

"You move too much," Fitzwilliam mumbled sleepily into her shoulder as he pulled her closer. Trapped spoon-fashion next to her husband, she was forced to look at those curtains again. After drumming her hands on the bed for a few minutes, a smirk crossed her face.

"I suppose, then, that you would not want me to move all, correct?" She asked with a grin.

"Yes, that would be ideal," he replied to her shoulder with a hint of annoyance.

"Of course," she said. "Then I suppose you would want me to stare at the curtains forever, correct?"

"Whatever suits your fancy," he mumbled again.

"So you would not want me to do this, would you?" She asked innocently while turning to face him.

He cracked open one eye and gazed blearily at her. "Well, the view is much preferable this way."

"I agree," she replied. "Of course, I suppose if you do not want me to move at all, you would not like me to do this." She added, twining one hand up to play with the hair above his neck. Both of his eyes opened at this.

"And then I suppose," she continued in a saddened tone. "That you would not want me to do this either." With that, she stretched up and kissed him.

He responded immediately and they broke apart when a flustered maid entered a few minutes later.

"Oh! Ah...begging your pardon, sir. I'll- I'll- just come back in a minute then," she stammered before fleeing the room and blushing scarlet.

They both chuckled when she left, but Elizabeth stopped Fitzwilliam when he leaned over again.

"Stop, Fitzwilliam. You will shame the poor girl for life."

"So I'm not allowed to be with my wife?" He asked half-jokingly.

"Only when defenseless maids happen to be in the vicinity," she replied calmly, giving him a playful look.

The maid bustled in quite loudly at that moment and halted any retort Fitzwilliam had been about to make.

"Has Mrs. Bennet arrived yet?" Elizabeth asked the maid as she was bent over the fire. The girl straightened and gave her a sympathetic look.

"No ma'am, not yet." She replied with a small curtsy. "I'll just be back with the water, ma'am."

Elizabeth sat up and relished the warmth spreading throughout the room. Fitzwilliam was watching her and she knew he was debating whether to mention something or not. She pushed the covers aside and slipped into her dressing gown and slippers before padding over to the window. Once there, she drew back the heavy curtains just enough so that she could see outside. Her face, which was resigned before, burst out in a grin.

"It snowed!" She said excitedly, smiling over at Fitzwilliam. "Just a little bit, but it looks so beautiful! It was much too dreary before with everything all dead and brown. Do you think it will last?"

"For a few days at least," he replied, looking over her shoulder at the sparkling whiteness outside. The fields still looked dismal with the tall, thin grass resolutely defying the majestic snow, but the grounds nearby were covered with a light, powdery layer. "It would be a shame to stay inside when nature has created something so beautiful besides yourself."

She gave him a shrewd glance, taking note of his mischievous smile. "What are you proposing?"

"We should slip away this morning and enjoy the outside after breakfast. A few hours of solitude away from the house would be desirable."

"That would be wonderful," she replied joyously, her eyes beaming with happiness. All of a sudden the light in her face was extinguished. "But Jane. I cannot leave her to Mama. She has not felt well the past few days. It would be most unkind, but I do wish to go."

"It is possible that the weather may have daunted your mother," he offered, trying to be convincing.

"Nothing short of Mary's betrothal would stop Mama from coming," she replied bitterly. "Though I suppose that would have her running faster than the carriage."

"Come," Fitzwilliam said, giving her shoulders a slight squeeze. "Indulge yourself for one morning, I am sure Jane will not mind it. I will coax Bingley into staying with her so she will not be defenseless. We can promise them a morning to themselves tomorrow."

She was quick enough to see the grimace that passed his face. "You are too good to me," she responded with heart-felt appreciation. Leaning up, she kissed him again.

"None of the other servants have - Oh! I'm-I- here's your water, ma'am! Good morning to you both!" The crimson maid hastily placed the pitcher of warm water on the washstand and bolted out the door. Elizabeth smiled up at Fitzwilliam.

"That was all your doing," he stated with a smirk.

"No, it was not. You merely said something so that I had to kiss you," she replied with an answering smirk.

"So it is always to be my fault, then?" He asked, his one eyebrow raised.

"I am glad you understood so quickly," she replied happily, giving him a quick peck on the lips. Pulling away from him, she ventured over to the fire to get rid of the chill that had floated through the window. Fitzwilliam followed and took the seat opposite her.

"So, would you like to slip out this morning?" He asked.

"Yes. We shall propose the plan to them at breakfast. They should not mind if we are promising them a day to themselves."

"Did you bring the proper attire?" He asked, this time with a mischievous glint in his eyes that was not merely the trick of the light.

"What do you mean?" She asked suspiciously.

"Your riding clothes. Did you purposely forget them?" He continued, vainly repressing a smile at the glare he was receiving.

"Riding?" She cried out. "Are you mad? You know full well that I refuse to get on any of those devious beasts! I bet the Devil rides horses."

"As does your sister Jane who cannot be called anything even remotely resembling the Devil," he replied wryly. "Come, dear, we can ride together if you are frightened. We will take the tamest mare and not ride fast at all."

"Tamest mare meaning a demonic beast," she countered bitterly.

"Tamest mare meaning a docile, harmless creature," he responded good-naturedly. "We will ride the same horse. Do you think, knowing your temper, I would be foolish enough to risk bodily harm by frightening you?"

"I have known you to be quite devious yourself," she replied unconvinced.

"Just think about it then, love. I would not risk anything happening to you," he said sincerely.

"I know," she sighed, standing up.

Later they entered the breakfast room arm in arm, Fitzwilliam looking elated and Elizabeth a bit disgruntled. The rest were already seated at the table, Kitty and Georgiana discussing a painting they had seen in the gallery and Jane and Bingley talking softly together.

"No, the lady definitely looked cross. It was almost as if she had stepped in something awful," Kitty was saying loudly.

"I think it was the light. She was rather more stern than cross," Georgiana replied quietly, but with firmness in her conviction.

"You are like Jane and refuse to think anybody can be cross. Jane thought she was merely trying to hide her boredom," Kitty stated factually, helping herself to some jam.

Elizabeth could not help laughing and alerted the whole room to their presence. They walked over and sat down amid a torrent of "Good mornings".

"What has gotten you in such a fine mood, brother?" Georgiana asked pleasantly.

Elizabeth immediately scowled as Fitzwilliam grinned. "I am going to get Elizabeth on a horse."

"A demonic creature would be more correct. I still maintain that the Devil rides horses," she replied sourly as she poured herself some tea.

"How did you manage that?" Jane asked through the laughter at the table.

"He wheedled, tricked, and tortured me into it," Elizabeth answered instead, viciously attacking her eggs. Looking up to Georgiana, she continued. "Be wary of your brother whenever he has his mind on something. He has the Devil in his pocket."

"Come on, Lizzy. I know you will enjoy it. You're acting like a little child about it," Kitty said from her end of the table. "Charlotte got right back on a horse after her accident."

"I much prefer walking," Elizabeth replied, still glaring at her meal.

"Darcy," Bingley urgently said as he looked up from a letter he was holding. "I need to speak to you about a matter of business after we are done here."

Fitzwilliam glanced at Elizabeth; saw her troubled, yet relieved, look and her slight nod, before agreeing.

"Thank you," Bingley replied with a look of utter relief, dropping the paper as if it burned. He quietly assured his wife that it was nothing more than business while Kitty resumed taunting Elizabeth.

"You're very lucky today, Lizzy, but we'll have you on a horse before long."

"Comforting words, I'm sure."

Mrs. Bennet had not turned up at all throughout breakfast and they began to hope that she would not come at all. Just as they finished breakfast and decided to retire to Jane's favorite parlor, they heard Mrs. Bennet's less than dulcet voice piercing the hallway. Bingley turned a terrified face to Darcy and they quickly exited the room through the opposite door. Elizabeth had a fruitless nonverbal discussion with Georgiana, but failed to convince the girl to leave. Thus, they were all sitting morbidly as Mrs. Bennet descended, leaving a bleary-eyed Mary to amble in her wake.

"Oh, my girls!" She cried as she entered, swooping down on Jane. "Oh! I was so frightened that the snow would hamper our journey, but it is not so deep and the carriage made it just fine. We ate before we left since we were quite sure we shouldn't make it. I declare, your father would never let us leave on time. He keeps going on about all this nonsense. Why should my girls not want to see me? What does he know of such things? Truth be told, you don't know how much I wished my mother had been with me when I was with child with all of you, but she could not come. It is such a joy to have Jane so close and I know Lydia missed my companionship terribly when she was with little Nathan. Oh! I've had a letter from her, don't you know. Such a short one though, but Lord knows she barely has time too write."

A brief pause left all their ears ringing as Mrs. Bennet shuffled around trying to find the letter. Mary had sat at the table and opened her heavy tome. Jane had begun to look ill and Elizabeth noticed this immediately.

"Mama, we should retire to the parlor. It would be much more comfortable there to listen to Lydia's letter," Elizabeth interjected quickly as Mrs. Bennet finally found the letter.

"Ah, yes! What a splendid idea! Come Jane, careful now. You do not want to tire yourself so early. Only a month, the doctor said. Are you eating properly, dear? You do not look so well. Oh! You should go directly to bed. I can spare not seeing you, my dear, but you must watch out for the child. Oh! I know not what I should do should any harm come. Ring the bell, Kitty. We should have Jane sent back to her rooms."

Jane began to protest, but Elizabeth quelled her with a look. "I will see Jane up, Mama. There is no need to ring for Shirley."

They quickly exited the room leaving Mrs. Bennet to ramble on about her worries and Lydia's letter. The calm hallway seemed to ease Jane, but her face remained flushed. Elizabeth gently led her up to her rooms and alerted one of the serving girls that Jane's maid must be fetched. Once inside the grand bedroom, Elizabeth sat Jane down on the chair and began to poke at the fire, trying to add some life to it.

"Lizzy, I am fine, truly. There is no need for me to be abed. I should return downstairs. Mama will be worried," Jane stated from her perch as she struggled to stand.

"Jane, you are too good. You do not look well at all and it is better to be safe then sorry. You are frightfully flushed and I would rather you rest for one day. It would do you much good, Jane," Lizzy replied, soot streaking her face as she stood up from the fire.

Jane laughed at Lizzy's comical face and Lizzy joined in when she saw herself in the mirror. The troubled maid entered during the sister's hilarity and her fear for her mistress abated somewhat. However, once they had controlled themselves and Lizzy had cleaned her face, the maid became somber once more. She quickly retrieved Jane's warmest nightgown and hurriedly helped her change by the warmth of the fire. Jane was swiftly tucked in bed and he maid dismissed.

"Lizzy, I am quite well, I assure you," Jane began.

"Better to be safe than sorry, Jane. A child's life is nothing to be treated lightly."

"I know that, Lizzy," Jane replied with her never-ending patience, though she continued rather sheepishly. "It is rather ungenerous of me, but I confess that I actually enjoy being away from Mama's company."

Lizzy laughed. "I think there is hope for you yet, Jane. That is one of the most unforgiving things you have ever said. Next you shall be telling me one of Charles' habits that you cannot suffer."

Jane blushed a bit, alerting Lizzy that there was indeed some habit. After a bit of goading, Jane finally divulged the secret information. "Well, it is not a mean habit at all, it is rather a bit of an annoyance," Jane began. "He always taps on things; he cannot keep still."

Lizzy laughed heartily as Jane flushed a bit more. "And what of you?" Jane asked her sister, eager to move away from her own admission.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam and I get on tolerably. We quarrel every now and then, but we are both too obstinate. He just rises early every day, even if we have been out late at night. I feel like such a lazy lie-abed."

"Lizzy, you have always been a lie-abed. Do you remember what tricks we had to do to get you up in time for Church?"

Lizzy grew affronted. "How could I forget? That one day when Lydia and Kitty decided to send the new puppy into my room to lick my face! Ugh. I love dogs dearly, but I could never have genial feelings towards that mutt."

* * *

"So what is this urgent business, Bingley?" Fitzwilliam asked as he shut the study door. Bingley paced at his desk and withdrew the letter from his pocket. 

"Read it."

Fitzwilliam took it with a bit of caution, noting the unease in his friend's normally calm face. His face hardened once he recognized the strong, elegant script lacing the pages. Mentally preparing himself, he sat down and pursued the letter.

_Dear Charles,_

_  
Louisa begged me to tell you that we shall be coming down on the 17th of the month. We have been enjoying London immensely, but society is not quite the same without you and dear Jane. I hope all is well with her while she is in her condition. Amelia and Edgar elected to stay in Town for the holidays. They do not think it would be fitting to move the children in such weather. I have made many new acquaintances during the season. Miss Loring and Miss Treningham have proven to be valuable friends as is Miss Grantley._

_There is a matter I wish to place before you. After spending much time with Miss Grantley and her family, I am pleased to announce that I have entered into an engagement with her brother, Mr. Grantley, pending your approval. I should like to ask for you permission to allow Mr. Grantley to visit us after the New Year so that you may meet him and bless us with your consent. _

_I trust that you and Jane are in good health. _

_Your sister, _

_Caroline_

"Well?" Bingley asked, having noticed when Darcy finished the letter. "What should I do? Is it proper to let him come?"

Darcy stared at the letter again. He knew Caroline, far too well than he should have liked. There would be no peace at Netherfield if her request was denied. He had not heard harm of Mr. Grantley in the few years he had been around Town, but he had not heard much to recommend him either. He seemed of Mr. Hurst's ilk, save with more wealth and more discretion.

"What should you do if I had not been here?" Darcy asked instead. He hoped to continue Bingley's independence.

Bingley was momentarily shocked, but soon recognized Darcy's challenge. "Well, I... I suppose I shall have to let him come. Caroline will never let me rest until he visits. I shall have to give my consent to or else... well, you know Caroline."

Darcy nodded. "He must be rich," continued Bingley. "Or else she would not agree to marriage. Do you know anything of him?"

"I have not heard ill of him. He manages his money very well, but has a tendency to focus more on fashion than matters of serious substance. I believe he is in line to inherit the family estate, though he mainly resides in Town."

"Then I suppose she shall be quite happy," Bingley replied. "It will be quite proper to invite him, is it not?"

"I believe so.I can see no harm in it. It is not as if they shall be alone and there are plenty of people around. Will Jane be agreeable to it?"

"She will never refuse. I should ask for him to delay his arrival until the end of January. I do not think she will enjoy entertaining while in the end of her pregnancy."

"Most women would not," Darcy replied with an amused smile.

"Then I shall write to her directly," Bingely concluded.

Darcy browsed through the shelves as Bingley wrote his letter. He shook his head at Bingley's collection, but managed to find a book to pass the time. When Bingley finished, they decided to journey to the drawing room and rescue their wives from their mother. To their great surprise, they could discern no sound from the room as the ventured down the corridor. Sharing identical looks of confusion, they entered and beheld Kitty and Georgiana, each working on their languages.

"Where is Jane?"

Kitty looked up and replied with sympathy. "She retired upstairs with Lizzy. I do not think she is feeling well. Mama decided to leave soon after since we're invited to our Aunt Phillps for supper."

Bingley bolted out the door at the end of her speech and Darcy followed behind. He paused in the hallway while Bingley entered his private rooms. He could hear his wife's voice float through the open doorway. Soon after her form appeared as well. Smiling up at him, she took his arm and led him back to the drawing room.

"I insisted she stay upstairs. She looked tired and Mama's conversation was not helping," Elizabeth explained. "I do not wish to go back, but I have no choice."

"Your mother decided to leave early as we are to dine with the Phillips. We could go anywhere you wish," Fitzwilliam replied, with his mischievous smile. "I am sure there is a horse in need of a ride."

Elizabeth smiled apologetically, though with a full measure of relief. "I promised Kitty and Georgiana I would help them learn that new dance when we had the time. I cannot go back on my word."

"No, I understand," Fitzwilliam answered, though he could not hide his disappointment. They continued in silence to the drawing room.

* * *

"Lizzy, darling! It has been an age since you have been to visit me! How is married life agreeing with you?" Her Aunt Phillips asked as they arrived for the party. 

"Very well, Aunt," Elizabeth replied, subtly edging out of the way. She tried to bring Fitzwilliam with her, but her aunt would make sure to greet him with the most deference. A brilliant blush adorned Elizabeth's face and she refused to look straight at her husband. Her eyes lit up when she saw her father sitting docilely by the fire.

"Lizzy!" He greeted, standing up to embrace his daughter.

"Papa!" She greeted in turn. "You would not think we had only seen each other five days ago."

"Even that is far to long, my dear," he said earnestly. "Good evening, Mr. Darcy. I hope you have had a pleasant day."

"As well as can be imagined, sir," Darcy replied with a smile. Mr. Bennet nodded his head in understanding.

"So when are you all to come and visit me? I am in sore need of stimulating company."

"Very soon, Papa. Shall we come on Saturday?"

"That would be agreeable. I believe your mother is scheduled to visit Mrs. Long for the afternoon. Have you been following the Continent affairs, Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes, sir. I think it was a very poor decision to leave Napoleon in charge of Elba. That situation does not sit well with me."

"I agree. It would be much better to lock him in a prison."

Elizabeth let her gaze wander to the crowd. She noticed Mary sitting next to Mr. Stadbury. The two of them were in a deep discussion and she had never seen her sister look more alive. There was a passion in her eyes as she made her point with Mr. Stadbury listening intently. A smile graced Elizabeth's face. She hoped her sister would always be that happy, especially after been so often neglected in her childhood.

"Penny for your thoughts, Lizzy?" Her father asked smiling.

"Oh, you know they are worth much more than that, Papa," she replied.

"But still worth the hearing," he laughed.

"I am glad that Mary has found happiness. Has he approached you yet?"

"No, not as yet. I had always hoped she would outgrow her silliness, but I suppose it is all for the best," he answered, turning to look at the pair. "Well, Lizzy," he continued. "I must say you have done remarkable work with Kitty. I do not think any of my best endeavors could have wrought such a change."

"Thank you, Papa, but I do not credit myself alone. Georgiana and Kitty have been excellent, though unlikely, companions. They compliment each other very well."

She turned and saw Kitty chatting civilly with Mrs. Goulding while waiting for Maria's arrival. Georgiana was sitting near Jane and the two were talking quietly together. Elizabeth smiled at the likeness between the two. As she continued observing the crowd, she noticed a man enter whose face was very familiar. Likewise, he caught her gaze and instantly brightened.

"Lizzy!" He called, crossing the room to properly greet her. He dipped into a quick bow and kissed her hand as she rose from her curtsey. Fitzwilliam bristled next to her and could have melted the lad with his gaze. Mr. Benent rose and barely contained his amusement.

"Kit? Is that really you?" She asked, her form mixed with shock and excitement.

"The one and only," he grinned.

"But I thought you had gone up North?"

"I did, to help my uncle, but he passed on a few months back. He was a widower and left me his fortune and his estate in Durham. I thought I would come back here and perhaps carry on where I left off." He almost trembled from eagerness and his eyes asked a significant question.

Elizabeth eyes grew round and Fitzwilliam cut in before she could answer.

"Who are you?" He asked in a commanding tone that was fringed with ice.

The man drew himself up and looked Darcy up and down. Deciding that he would be civil, though his companion was less than that, he answered with a forced calmness.

"Christopher Mayne, sir. And you are?"

"Fitzwilliam Darcy," he answered, barely opening his mouth. They both bowed, but continued a staring contest. "You are acquainted with my wife, it would seem."

Fitzwilliam could not contain his pleasure at the emotions flitting across the other man's face. Comprehension melted to disbelief. One look at Elizabeth's down-turned face was enough to confirm his suspicions. Finally, resignation and hurt mingled on his features.

"Yes, I am. Let me take this time to wish you joy," he continued in a strained voice.

Fitzwilliam nodded his acknowledgement and Christopher took the opportunity to exit. Mr. Bennet discreetly left to greet Sir William and left the couple by the fireplace. They stood in silence before Elizabeth regained enough of her composure.

"You did not need to be so rude, Fitzwilliam. He has been away for quite a long time," she stated in a low voice.

"I thought it wiser to put an end to his ambitions before he embarrassed himself. You were only offering encouragement," he added, still glaring at the man.

"Forgive me for being happy to see an old friend!" She exclaimed, clearly affronted.

"He seemed like more than a friend," he countered pointedly.

Elizabeth stood there fuming before turning on her heel and leaving him at the fireplace. In a foul mood, Darcy retreated with a drink and regressed to the original Darcy Hertfordshire had known. Elizabeth passed Kitty eagerly talking with Maria Lucas and a hesitant Georgiana listening to their conversation. She soon found the object of her quest and artfully separated him from his group.

"Lizzy," Kit began as she led him to a corner of the room.

"I am very sorry, Kit. He should not have been so rude. He has not been in a great mood today," Elizabeth said apologetically.

"I understand." His gaze drifted over to the man in question who was currently glaring at them. "He seems a cross old man. I heard he is very rich."

Elizabeth noticed the accusation buried in the words. "I did not marry him for him money, Kit. You know me better than that."

"Then why did you not wait? You promised you would!" Desperation had slipped into his words.

"You never wrote. You left and promised that you would be back soon and that you would write every day. I received two letters and that was all. I had no news on if you were even alive!"

"I never received your letters."

"I sent them, Kit."

"Are you happy with him, Lizzy? Truly happy?" He asked after a pause.

"Yes, Kit, I am. I love him and he has made me very happy," she replied with heartfelt sincerity.

Kit bit his lip and nodded. "Then he deserves you. Would you excuse me?"

Elizabeth watched as he hurried away. They had always been the greatest of friends and she truly had thought he had disappeared. The depth of his sentiment touched her, but she could not help feeling more than a little ashamed. She released a sigh and grabbed a glass of wine. Forcing a smile onto her face, the rest of the evening passed in the usual circle of civility. She and Fitzwilliam spoke naught a word to each other all evening and the carriage ride home was filled with Kitty's chatter. Neither was up to discussing what was uppermost in their thoughts. That night they muttered good nights, but could not sleep. Each was confined to the edge of the bed and their minds caught in the events of the evening.

* * *

Fitzwilliam sat in the library diligently answering his business letters. Bingely was in his study and had graciously lent his friend full reign of the library. He was briefly enjoying the relative calm before Caroline and the Hursts descended on Netherfield. Mrs. Bennet had continued her dominance in the Bingley household and no tactic seemed to remove her. Jane still endured her mother's presence, but he could never imagine having her patience. Elizabeth suffered with less patience and was more inclined to snap at others. 

They had not talked about the incident at Mrs. Phillips, though it rested heavily on both of them. He had tried to mention it a few times, but she had quieted him with a glare and out rightly refused to speak to him. Even his attempts to apologize had gone nowhere. Therefore, he grudgingly resigned himself to his usual solitude and granted her request to be by herself. He remained frustrated, but had the bitter satisfaction that he had done all he could think of to end this problem.

"Are you ready for a game of billiards?" Bingley asked as he entered the library.

"Are you ready to lose a game of billiards?" Darcy grinned.

"Only if you will be humble enough to accept your own defeat."

"Agreed."

"Are you prepared for tomorrow?" Darcy asked halfway through their game in the billiard room.

"As ready as I shall ever be," Bingley groaned. "Good Lord, do they really come tomorrow?"

"I am afraid so," Darcy replied as he sank the five ball. "Perhaps Mrs. Bennet will be less inclined to join us."

"I highly doubt that, Darcy," Bingley said, just missing the eight ball.

"I will be quite glad when she leaves or when we leave. I do not understand how you can suffer her in your house. It would drive me mad!"

Bingley let out a whoop as he sank the eight ball. "I believe you owe me, Darcy."

After Darcy handed over the coins, Bingley continued. "Well, we cannot move from here with Jane as she is. We should have to wait until spring should we decided to relocate anywhere."

"Have you discussed it with her?" Darcy inquired, lining up the balls for the break.

"I have mentioned it a couple of times. She does not seem opposed to the idea, but she worries about her father."

Darcy nodded his understanding. After their game, they settled down for dinner and noticed the absence of three main attendees.

"Mama said that Papa was not feeling well," Jane supplied. "Lizzy insisted on accompanying them home."

"But Mrs. Bennet does not usually leave until after dinner," Bingley queried.

Kitty took her turn to answer. "Lizzy practically dragged Mama out the door. She thought Papa should like company at dinner, though she told me as she was leaving that she hoped we would enjoy a peaceful meal."

Fitzwilliam said nothing, but was concerned. He was worried about Elizabeth, even with their quarrel, and about Mr. Bennet. He knew she would be devastated should anything happen to him. Unlike him, she had not faced the grief of losing a loved one. However, for all his generous feelings, he could help a prickling of anger of her not informing him of her doings. She made it quite clear that she would not report to him like a child and he respected her for it, but she usually made an effort to keep him informed.

The afternoon passed much too slowly for his liking. Jane and Bingley retired upstairs as Jane admitted she was not feeling very well. He listened to Georgiana play and Kitty chatter on for an hour before he needed to go clear his head. Pacing up and down the small art gallery, he finally came to a resolution. He would confront her tonight and but an end to all this. The waiting and speculation was driving him mad.

Elizabeth arrived in the middle of supper looking rather worse for wear. Kitty and Georgiana were instantly at her side inquiring after her and her father.

"Papa is much better. I am quite all right, just a bit tired. Where is Jane?"

This last statement was directed over their heads to Bingley.

"She is upstairs. She has been unwell this afternoon."

Elizabeth sighed and left, they presumed to visit Jane. She did not return for supper. Bingley left them soon after and Fitzwilliam told the girls that he wished to retire as well. Georgiana and Kitty followed him up the stairs, but went into Kitty's room to look at some paintings. Fitzwilliam waited patiently for Travis to arrive. He seemed puzzled at his master's early arrival, but the mention of Miss Bingley put all suspicion to rest. Settling in the chair with a book, he waited for Elizabeth.

Shortly after ten he heard her voice in her parlor. It was only a few moments before she was brought into his sight where she visibly started.

"Elizabeth," he began, rising from his chair. "We cannot keep doing this."

"Doing what?" She asked with pertinent innocence.

"Avoiding what is bothering each other. I have apologized for my remarks to Mr. Mayne. I confess that my feelings ran away with me and they should not have. What more do I have to do?" He asked, truly bewildered.

"That was one instance, Fitzwilliam. Even before then you were avoiding my presence. You have been spending all your time with Bingley that I never see you!"

Fitzwilliam's eyes popped in disbelief. "Never see me? You are like a ghost, Elizabeth. You are always asleep when I come in at night and I only ever see you at meals. You are always off with Jane or Kitty and even today you went off to Longbourn without a word to me."

"Forgive me for having some family members that I care about. I know you cannot stand my mother, most people cannot. But can you hold my regard for Jane and my father against me? I have not seen him for over half a year!"

"I have a high regard for your family, Elizabeth."

"So that is why you ridicule my mother? So much that you cannot wait until she leaves?"

"Elizabeth, just let me explain."

"I have had enough of your explanations."

"You have never let me explain! Why do you keep ignoring me?"

"Because I cannot stand the sight of you!"

"You don't mean that, Elizabeth," he stated, taking a step toward her. She backed away violently.

"Don't touch me! I just... I cannot... I cannot suffer this tonight!"

"Just tell me what is on your mind."

"I cannot!" She cried, almost pleading. Her answer shocked him deeper than he imagined. It pained him that she could not open up to him and he knew she could see it. Their heavy breathing filled the room as they stared at each other with almost new eyes. A frantic knock jolted them from their state. The harried maid jerked open the door after hearing Elizabeth's quick entreaty to enter.

"Ma'am, the Mistress. She's taken ill," the girl sobbed, trembling as she spoke. Elizabeth's eyes grew in horror and she paled instantly. Pulling on her dressing gown, she ran after the maid toward her sister.

Blinking once to absorb all that had happened, Fitzwilliam followed suit.

* * *

_Well, the talk with my muse didn't go over well. She abandoned me and then school took over. Junior year is not fun. I still maintain that school destroys creativity. All I can do is apologize for such a tremendous delay and I can promise that the next chapter will not take so long, especially since this is kind of a cliffhanger. I am heartfully sorry and I thank anyone who is still reading this for your support. Thanks to Mlle. Skywalker for beta-ing this even though she has a crazier schedule than I do.  
_

_ Don't lose faith. Even if I don't update for a while, this story is far from completion and I love it too much to abandon it.  
_


	13. The Weight of Burdens

_Previously:_

"Just tell me what is on your mind, Elizabeth."

"I cannot!" She cried, almost pleading. Her answer shocked him deeper than he imagined. It pained him that she could not open up to him and he knew she could see it. Their heavy breathing filled the room as they stared at each other with almost new eyes. A frantic knock jolted them from their state. The harried maid jerked open the door after hearing Elizabeth's quick entreaty to enter.

"Ma'am, the Mistress. She's taken ill," the girl sobbed, trembling as she spoke. Elizabeth's eyes grew in horror and she paled instantly. Pulling on her dressing gown, she ran after the maid toward her sister.

Blinking once to absorb all that had happened, Fitzwilliam followed suit.

* * *

**The Weight of Burdens**

"Jane!" Elizabeth cried as she ran into the room. The maid scurried over to prod the fire and Mrs. Fanning, the housekeeper, looked up from the basin next to the bed. In the dim light, Elizabeth could see the fear in the woman's face. Elizabeth hurried next to her and took in her sister's flushed face.

"She's caught a fever," Mrs. Fanning softly informed her as she replaced the cool cloth on Jane's forehead. "Shirley said the Mistress started moaning soon after you left her. I think it has been a while coming. Poor child, she never likes to cause a fuss."

Elizabeth sat on the bed and stroked her sister's hand. Jane's eyes were closed and her hair was matted from the few hours she had been twisting. When Elizabeth reached forward to touch her cheeks, she was taken aback by how warm they were. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. At that moment, she noticed Bingley sitting like a statue in a chair on the other side of the bed. His eyes were bigger than dinner plates in fear and horror. Both of his hands were clasped around Jane's other hand and worry was carved into his features.

Elizabeth leaned over and put her hand comfortingly over his. He started and looked up at her with haunted eyes.

"She will be well, Charles. She will be," she said gently, hoping she projected more certainty than she felt.

He merely nodded and returned to his vigil. Elizabeth withdrew her hand after patting his own and looked about the room, swiftly switching into the role of nurse. All the curtains were tightly drawn and the fire was burning brightly. The basin of water was half empty and the girl manning the fireplace was covered in soot. Clear paths were traced down her blackened face from the sweat from the fire joined with her tears. Mrs. Fanning was dutifully replacing the cloths on Jane's head and keeping the covers wrapped tightly around her.

The door opened revealing Shirley with another basin of water, this one mixed with some of the remaining snow. She passed by Fitzwilliam as she made her way to her bed. He was modestly staring at the fireplace and purposely avoided looking at the bed. Elizabeth made a judgment as she stood there.

"Has Mr. Jones been called?" She asked Mrs. Fanning.

The elder lady shook her head. "No ma'am. We haven't been able to get a word out of the Master," she added, nodding toward Bingley.

Elizabeth frowned, but her thoughts were interrupted.

"I shall fetch him directly." Fitzwilliam announced, still staring intently at the fireplace. He looked up enough to briefly catch Elizabeth's gaze.

"Take one of the servants with you. They will know the quickest way," she replied as she turned to Shirley. "Can you fetch someone to help Mr. Darcy?"

"At once, Ma'am. Johnny shall meet you at the stables, sir," she continued as she curtsied.

"Thank you," he replied as he made room for her to exit. "Please fetch Travis on your way as well."

"Yes, sir," she answered as she quickly left the room to see to her errands.

"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth called as he made to leave. He turned around and waited expectantly as her troubled face tried to form the words. "You... you should probably fetch the midwife, too."

He only nodded, but his troubled eyes grew wider. Bingley jumped in his seat and stared at Elizabeth with a pleading look. She looked at the floor as Fitzwilliam left, unwilling to face Bingley's pain.

"Is... Is that... Is it necessary?" He choked out, grasping his wife's hand even tighter.

"I know not, but I would rather be prepared," she answered slowly, hardly wishing to admit that possible scenario.

He nodded, looking somewhat relieved, and brought Jane's hand up for a kiss. Elizabeth could feel tears threatening to overwhelm her, but she quickly turned and busied herself by the basin. Mrs. Fanning respectfully moved aside and gave the girl by the fire a well-deserved break.

Elizabeth worked methodically, trying to keep her mind focused on the tasks at hand. Bingley scarcely moved and Jane's breathing became more labored. Each minute seemed to last an eternity and she could not believe that only a half hour had passed. The fire snapped loudly, dousing the room with a blast of heat. Despite the warmth, Elizabeth shivered. Unwanted thoughts clouded her mind. Forcefully shaking her head, she tried to banish them to the wicked realm they belonged in.

"Ma'am!" Shirley cried breathlessly. "They've come! They've come!"

Elizabeth rose, her pale face less taunt from relief. Bingley twisted halfway in his chair, unable to remove his gaze from his wife lest she disappear the instant he took his eyes off her. Mr. Jones' haggard form entered through the doorway, his face weary from a long day's toil. Elizabeth curtsied and respectfully moved so he could examine Jane. Setting his bag on the night table, he began.

Elizabeth gripped the end of the bed, her knuckles turning white. The servants huddled by the fire awaiting the verdict. Fitzwilliam observed the scene and noticed how tense his own wife was. Silently crossing the room, he wrapped his arm hesitantly across her shoulders to draw her to him. With a small sigh, she leaned against him. Her body trembled slightly and he drew her even closer to offer any comfort he could.

All eyes were upon Mr. Jones as he straightened from the bed. Shirley presented him with a glass of water he gratefully took before answering their silent entreaties.

"I do not think she has caught much more than a fever, but given her condition, I would like to watch her for the night. Hopefully we can get the fever to turn quickly. Have you called the midwife?"

Fitzwilliam gravely nodded his head. "She said she would arrive within the half hour."

Mr. Jones sighed. "Very well, then."

Jane let out a groan from the bed and all attention was refocused on her. Mr. Jones immediately began ordering the servants to fetch more cold water and to bring up more firewood. He kept the cold compresses on her head, but hoped to heat the fever out of her. Elizabeth stayed by the bed, helping in anyway she could while Bingley remained by Jane's side. Fitzwilliam, feeling largely out of place, left the sick room. On his way back to his rooms, he noticed that light flickered underneath Georgiana's door. Pausing, he gently knocked and his sister's worried face met him. Her prayer book lay open on her bed and he could tell that she had not slept.

"Oh, brother!" She cried as she beheld him. "What has happened? I have heard many of the servants about, but I cannot account for it. Is Mrs. Bingley in good health?"

His grim features gave her the answer. With a soft cry, she let him into the room and sat him down before the fire. "Is it very serious? Will she be well?"

Fitzwilliam sighed. "The apothecary is there now and hopes to turn the fever tonight."

Georgiana's face grew a little relieved. "But what of the child?"

"I know not, Georgiana. I know not."

The sat in silence for a while, staring at the fireplace. Fitzwilliam was troubled with the memory of such an instance before with his mother. He had been so full of hope that he would receive a brother who would be much more fun to play with than George, but then, at the very last, his mother had grown ill and so had his sibling. Fitzwilliam dared not voice this memory to anyone and heighten his or her tension. However, he could not view the situation as favorably as the rest. Glancing up, he noticed that a quarter hour had passed and excused himself from his sister's room, begging her to get some rest.

He continued his journey to his room. Just as he reached the doorway, he caught sight of a manservant leading a robust old woman past him towards Jane's room. He had no doubt that she was the midwife. Entering the room, he tried to distract himself by the newest novel he had procured, but the words made no sense. He read the same passage five times without being able to make heads nor tails of it. Shutting the book in frustration, he got up and paced around the room. Even activity allowed his painful thoughts to intrude and he could not prevent his worry from rising. After another quarter hour of this, he ventured back to the sick room to see if he could be of any assistance.

When he opened the door, he was met with a wall of heat. The fire blazed triumphantly, but the rest of the faces remained silent and gloomy. Aside from the noise of the fire, all that could be heard was Jane's newly developed cough. Mr. Jones' forehead was furrowed in concentration as he tried to form a new plan and Bingley and Elizabeth looked only worse since he had left. He quietly made his way to Elizabeth and asked if anything needed to be done.

She glanced up at him and shook her head, her gaze immediately returning to her sister. He nodded and left to pace in the hallway. Eventually he flung himself into the lone chair in the alcove. He had mentioned to Bingley that they ought to add another chair there. It would make it more comfortable and open to a companion. He decided that he did not like solitude as he sat there, sleep pulling insistently. Eventually he succumbed, but for how long remained a mystery.

The occupants of the sick room were fighting the same battle. Mr. Jones, after doing all he could, grimly informed them that patience and waiting were the only options left for them. He resigned his post to Elizabeth and settled down in a chair near the fire. Within a few minutes he was asleep, no doubt the result of not being able to rest since the previous morning. This time of year was always industrious with the fever mills and cold factories working overtime. Mr. Jones was only one man against the onslaught.

Elizabeth sat next to her sister, dutifully changing the compresses on her head. Any and every prayer she could remember spewed from her lips in a whispered litany. Whatever could be done to save her sister was worth it. Bingley had followed her lead, whether consciously or not, she was not sure. His eyes were rimmed in a bright red and his boyish face wore such a grave expression that she felt he had aged twenty years in the span of mere hours. Jane's face remained flushed and her breathing labored. The midwife stood at attention, waiting, and not hoping, for her chance to enter the ring.

Minutes plowed on and sleep began to haunt Elizabeth. She could feel the spirits dancing behind her eyes, luring her closer to their beguiling domain. With a start, she would shake herself, change Jane's compress, and focus on her sister and her prayers. Within minutes, she would have to repeat this cycle. One of the maids, who had been sent to relieve Shirley, offered to take her place, but Elizabeth adamantly refused. Dawn began to edge the horizon as Elizabeth jerked herself into consciousness once again. However, her ritual was slightly different.

Upon beholding Jane, Elizabeth noticed the peaceful expression on her face. Puzzled, she leaned forward and heard the regular rhythm of a sleeping person's breathing. Her eyes grew wide in unspoken joy as she rushed over and shook Mr. Jones. Bingley sprang up at this commotion, trying to act as if he had always been awake. One look at his beloved Jane caused him to kiss her forehead and almost whoop in relief.

"Let me be sure, Mrs. Darcy," Mr. Jones replied to her earnest declarations.

For a long minute, nearly as tense as when he had first arrived, he examined Jane. Elizabeth clutched the bedpost, hardly daring to believe the best. Fitzwilliam, having been woken by a fleeing maid imparting the news to the rest of the staff, immediately entered the room. Silence waited Mr. Jones' answer, the weight of it stronger than a death knell.

With a sigh, he smiled. "It has broken."

Elizabeth clapped her hands together, her eyes spilling over in tears. Fitzwilliam wrapped his arm around her and she welcomed his embrace. Bingley kissed his wife's hand and forehead fervently. Jane stirred on the bed.

"Charles?" She asked drowsily, barely able to focus on his face.

"It will be all right, love. You are well," he answered with pent up emotion.

Jane dimly nodded. "Lizzy?"

Elizabeth rushed over to answer her call. "I am here, Jane, dear. I am here."

"That is good," Jane replied. "I am so tired."

"Rest, dear. It will do you good. Just rest," Elizabeth comforted softly, tucking Jane's blankets around her. Within seconds, Jane had drifted back to sleep.

"Praise God that such a crisis was averted. I recommend that you all return to bed, especially Miss El- Mrs. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. We cannot have the two of you falling ill as well. You know Mrs. Bingley would never forgive herself for that," Mr. Jones commanded jovially.

Elizabeth gave him a small smile. "Yes, sir. We cannot have that."

He gathered his things and left after bidding them all farewell. Bingley continued his vigil despite Mr. Jones' warning and Fitzwilliam's attempts at persuasion. They were all to no avail. Bingley meant to stay beside his love in sickness and in health and he would hold true to his vow. Fitzwilliam relented in the face of his friend's obstinacy and offered Elizabeth his arm back to their quarters.

She gratefully accepted and allowed him to lead her back. They did not share a word, as they were both much too tired. He left her in her dressing room where the maid had left out a fresh nightgown. Elizabeth quickly slipped into her new one and padded to her husband's dressing room, gracefully hiding a yawn behind her hand.

The rustle of her nightgown caused him to look up into his mirror and catch her sleepy smile. He had managed to get off his boots and stockings from his ride to get Mr. Jones, but was fumbling with the small buttons on his waistcoat. Swiftly crossing the room, Elizabeth's nimble fingers deftly undid them for him and moved the waistcoat off. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her flowing curls as she quickly helped him out of his shirt as well. She stifled another yawn with the back of her hand and he motioned for her to go to bed. Readily assenting, she vanished into their room.

After blowing out the candles and checking the grate, he found one lone candle still lit on Elizabeth's bedside. She sat up under the covers waiting for him, the light only heightening her recent signs of strain. After crawling in to bed, he blew out the light and curled his wife next to him. Exhaustion finally claimed its victims.

* * *

"Thank you, Maggie. That is all."

"Yes, Ma'am. Sir."

With that, she curtsied and left the room, leaving the Darcy's to their steaming breakfast plates laid out before the fire. The heavy curtains were pulled back, letting the bright winter light amble through the sheer cream curtains. Elizabeth blew on her tea as her husband sat next to her at the table. A threatening silence swept around the fireplace, taunting and begging for them to release the tension.

"Was Jane any better when you saw her?" Fitzwilliam asked with genuine concern.

"Much better. She was wide-awake and chatting quite happily. You would have though poor Charles was ill the way he slept," she replied with an attempt at humor.

"I see."

After a few painstaking minutes, the silence was once again broken.

"Elizabeth," he called, waiting for her eyes to meet his before continuing. "Are you well? You have barely touched your meal."

She glanced down at the crumbled biscuit on her plate and her dregs of tea. "I am well, though not very hungry. It must be from all the excitement still," Elizabeth decided.

"Will you... will you not tell me what has been upsetting you?" Fitzwilliam ventured after a pause, still debating whether or not he was pursuing the right course.

Elizabeth determinedly set down her cup and looked away from him. Her sweet brow crinkled and she let out a soft sigh before flicking her gaze back towards him.

"I... I..." she tried, the words sticking forcefully in her throat. She gave him an apologetic look before trying once again. "I... It is everything, Fitzwilliam! There is just so much! Papa, Georgiana, Jane, Mama, Kitty, and... and even you. I just... I do not know... It is too much!"

Here she broke down into sobs and covered her face with her hands. Fitzwilliam looked at her in complete bewilderment and instantly felt awkward. He tried to offer her some comfort, but she jerked away from his touch. Helpless, he waited for her to calm down.

She suddenly stood up from the chair and crossed over to the mantle staring into the flames. A faint sizzle was heard as her tears dropped into them. Fitzwilliam was unable to resist the pull of her struggling shoulders and gathered her up into an embrace. She quickly gave up her fruitless resistance and succumbed to the tears and emotions overpowering her. Her hands clung to his coat as he held her and a wet patch soon seeped into his first-rate clothes. They stood there for a long while, even after the room was pervaded by silence.

"I am sorry," she said softly from his chest. Her chin lifted up, though her eyes stayed fixed on his cravat. "I have not been myself. I have been so worried about Kitty and Georgiana and I just know something happened between Georgiana and Lord Rocheford. And I know how much Mama grates on everyone within her vicinity. And Papa, he has been very ill and there has been no one to pay him any mind. Mama is always off touring with Mary and Mary is so involved with Mr. Stadbury that she is never really there at home. I do not know what will become of him and I am so deathly afraid that I shall never see him and should the worse happen I... I..."

Her fresh wave of tears erupted from her and Fitzwilliam continued to console her although he was thoroughly bewildered.

"Elizabeth," he asked softly. "Why did you not tell me? You should not have carried such burdens all by yourself."

Elizabeth flushed with shame and dropped her gaze to the floor. "I... I did not wish you to have my family's worries on your shoulder. I know having Kitty with us is a trial and you have been worried about Georgiana."

"But Elizabeth," he replied, "Your family is my family too. I will admit that at first I was less than thrilled for Kitty to join us, but she has improved quite a bit and no one can deny how beneficial her and Georgiana are to each other. Every family has its peculiarities. It is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Even Mama? I know she has been putting a strain on everyone, even poor Jane!"

"Elizabeth!" He calmly stalled her before she could continue. "I believe you know too much! Your family is not perfect, but neither are we and neither is my own family. You cannot change everyone, Elizabeth, and we suffer whatever ill will for the sake of those we care about. Look at Georgiana and what happened at Kent. At least your mother is not as malicious as Lady Catherine. But Georgiana endured all of her torments for duty and through her love for us. Yes, your mother can be rather overbearing and coarse, but Charles and I will gladly bear it for you and Jane."

Neither moved for a good many minutes. Elizabeth flushed deeper than she ever imagined she could. With a sudden movement, she clasped Fitzwilliam in a suffocating embrace.

"I have been such a fool!" She declared. Fitzwilliam thought it wise to check the quip rising within him.

"Everyone has been a fool at some point," he concluded.

"I suppose," she sighed. "I am truly sorry, Fitzwilliam. I just did not think it right to burden you with my burdens."

"Elizabeth, love, I am your husband. If I could carry all your burdens so that you would have no moment of worry, I would gladly do so," he stated resolutely. "I would hope," he continued in a less certain vein, "that you will let me share some of your burdens in the future."

"Of course, Fitzwilliam."

When the maid returned to collect the breakfast plates, she immediately shut the door and blushed a magnificent red. She caught the eye of another maid across the hall and they both giggled madly.

* * *

Afternoon drifted through the main corridor as the Darcys' made their way to the drawing room. They had left Jane to her rest and were told by a passing maid that that was where the young ladies were. Clasping hands and meandering down the hall like a newly betrothed pair, they chatted softly, with laughter erupting and bringing smiles to the servants. Upon reaching the main staircase, their laughter abruptly halted.

Miss Bingley's voice rose over the banister to meet, and effectively destroy, the cheer that had reigned. Exchanging worried looks, it became clear to the couple that Miss Bingley's imminent arrival had been completely forgotten in the wake of Jane's illness. As they slowly descended the stairs they could hear her detailing every miserable occurrence on her trip. The housekeeper remained neutral and was silently thankful that the guest bedroom had been aired and cleaned a few days before. Miss Bingley's foul temper was re-directed upon the Darcys' and culminated the horrid trip to the forsaken land of Hertfordshire. She walked a few paces in their direction and met them sardonically.

"Mr. Darcy!" She greeted with a perfunctory curtsy. "Mrs. Darcy," she added in clipped tones, barely dipping her head.

Elizabeth bristled, but Fitzwilliam's hand steadied her before she could lose possession of herself. Swallowing the nasty retort that hovered on the tip of her tongue, she was able to reply with indifferent civility.

"Have the Hurst's not joined you?" Darcy questioned once he was able to get a word in edgewise of Miss Bingley's narrative.

"As you see, they have not. They thought it quite necessary to stay in town. I should have dearly loved to stay, but Jane is my sister and I could not leave her in such a place with Charles' heir. They decided to come after Christmastide, most likely with Mr. Grantley," she continued, with a significant smile directed toward them. "Besides, Adele is having a truly fantastic gathering in town. Her party promises to be one of the best for the holidays."

"Mrs. Wedgewood?" Darcy asked for clarification.

"Yes, of course. Lucinda is married to Mr. Saunders, you remember? They had a son a year back," Miss Bingley added, eager to continue a conversation that Elizabeth could not participate in.

"You are quite right, Miss Bingley. Would you please excuse us," Mr. Darcy stated, responding to the tight grip wrenching his hand. "I am afraid the girls have been awaiting our arrival for quite some time."

"Oh, but of course. I should not wish to inconvenience dear Georgiana," Miss Bingley replied, all smiles and charm. The housekeeper took up her cue and led the harpy to her room before Elizabeth could do something very undignified.

They hurriedly ventured to the drawing room and found only one inhabitant. Kitty was placidly painting an artfully arranged vase full of flowers from the greenhouse. Elizabeth went over to check her progress while Fitzwilliam looked around for evidence of Georgiana.

"Oh, Georgiana mentioned the library. I believe she finished her latest book and wished to get the next one. She will probably return shortly," Kitty offered from her stool as she mixed a brilliant shade of green.

"Miss Bingley has just arrived," Darcy stated as he and Elizabeth settled onto the divan.

"What!" Kitty exclaimed in a very unladylike manner. Thankfully, she had enough presence of mind to prevent her paints from spilling. "Well, there goes Christmas off and ruined. I shall never see Georgiana while she's about."

"Kitty," Elizabeth warned. "She is Charles's sister. As much as we wish her gone, we shall have to bear her. It is not fair on Jane to have such tension in her house."

"But I do not see why we all have to change. If she is the one who cannot get on with others, she should be the one to change her ways," Kitty groused, short angry streaks littering her painting.

"She does have a valid point, Elizabeth," Fitzwilliam muttered.

"But the probability of that happening is akin to me riding a horse again," Elizabeth replied firmly.

Kitty's eyes danced. "Then we have a very good shot! Remember, Lizzy? You did promise to go riding a week ago."

Fitzwilliam and Kitty laughed at the horror settling in her face. A perplexed Georgiana walked into this debacle and wished she had not missed the fun.

"Georgiana, you must save me! These two have got it into their heads to put me back on a horse!" Elizabeth cried in desperation.

"Did you not agree to that yourself last week?" Georgiana asked, slightly confused, prompting Kitty to erupt into another fountain of laughter.

Elizabeth sat there speechless, unable to articulate any proper response. Moaning and covering her face with her hands, she could not avoid her mortification as the rest of the party laughed at her expense. A haggard Bingley entered into the room and all sound ceased. Elizabeth was up in a flash inquiring about Jane. He hurriedly assured them that Jane was fine, but who in the Devil had let Caroline in?

Darcy gently informed him that the housekeeper had, as Miss Bingley was already expected. Raking a hand through his hair, Bingley sat heavily in the nearest chair.

"I had wished Jane would be able to have some peace with her sisters," he stated sadly.

"Of course she shall," the least welcome voice announced from the doorway. "Why else do you think I came to visit? I could not bear it if she were to be uncomfortable in any way."

"Naturally," Bingley replied tersely. A prickly silence remained. Kitty resumed her painting, and Georgiana timidly opened up her novel. The tension, however, did not abate. Darcy and Elizabeth began a quiet conversation. He continued to coerce her into her promise of riding. Elizabeth stoutly declared that she had no riding clothes and could not possibly go on a horse without being indecent. A comment by Darcy, unheard by the rest of the room, left her blushing and moving over to observe Kitty's painting.

Caroline took stock of the room and, not expecting any company, decided to take a turn about it. Elizabeth, remembering a comment previously made by her husband, could not resist leaning over his ear and whispering about the best way to admire figures. His mischief was in full force, and again Elizabeth was forced to retreat. Bingley eventually engaged Darcy in some discourse and the evening continued, showing a veneer of amicability.

After a time, Elizabeth excused herself to see to Jane and bid everyone good night. Kitty and Georgiana soon retired to their rooms and the men eagerly escaped to the study. Caroline Bingley found herself staring at the empty splendor of the drawing room. Gathering the rest of her pride, she arched her nose and glided into the hallway. It was not until she reached her private chambers that she allowed herself the luxury of thinking about Mr. Grantley. True, they were not in love, but at least he was some form of a companion. Her own pride would not permit her to concede that she was lonely. Setting down her elegant turban, she lightly stroked the long feathers. If nothing else, she was assured of the luxuries she was accustomed to and a man without an exceptionally vicious character.

Down the hall, Kitty was prattling on the finer points of her painting. She meant it to be a Christmas present for Jane and simply could not mix the right color for the petals. It was either too light or too dark and she was just so ready to toss the blasted thing in the fire! Georgiana duly promised her assistance in an effort to retrieve her solitude. Kitty eventually vanished in tolerable cheer to her bedchamber and passed Elizabeth returning to her room.

"You ought to check on Georgiana, Lizzy," Kitty advised as they paused in the hallway. "She seems very... out of sorts, I suppose. She talks even less than usual in front of me."

Elizabeth nodded and promised to look in on her sister. She had just returned from tending to Jane and dearly desired to be whisked off to sleep. However, although Jane was finally in a more stable condition, she still had other sisters to look after. Knocking lightly on Georgiana's door, she entered and noticed the hot tears on Georgiana's cheeks.

Saying nothing, she gently sat down next to her sister and embraced her, smoothing her hair like one would a child on the threshold of sleep. Unable to restrain herself any longer, Georgiana cried freely instead of trying to control the flow of tears. Once Georgiana grew still, Elizabeth drew forth a handkerchief. Georgiana gratefully accepted it, but inwardly berated the lack of willpower that had allowed her to behave thus. She tried to return the handkerchief and forget that the incident had ever occurred, but Elizabeth was not so easily deterred.

"Come now, Georgiana," Elizabeth replied after Georgiana's failed attempt to return the sodden handkerchief. "You cannot honestly believe I would leave you to bear this burden all alone."

Georgiana remained quiet. She stared glumly at her hands, which were wringing each other in her lap. After trying and failing multiple times to offer an explanation, Elizabeth eventually took pity on her.

"Am I correct in assuming this involves Lord Rocheford?" She questioned neutrally.

Georgiana started and nodded, unable to offer any communication beyond that.

"It would be foolish of me to ask if he has hurt you in any way as it seems the wound is such that cannot be cured through bandages," Elizabeth stated sympathetically.

Georgiana nodded again, this time venturing so far as to alight on Elizabeth's face.

"Has he broken any promises of engagement or the like?" Elizabeth asked, recalling the similarities to Jane's misery over Mr. Bingley's initial perceived rejection.

"No," Georgiana answered desolately, her head shaking vehemently. "He has kept his word in all respects."

"Did he not have some partiality toward you?"

Georgiana shook her head with equal vigor. "No! He could not… But there were times… Oh Elizabeth! I swear, I thought he did. I honestly thought he loved me. I've been nothing more than a fool. A silly little fool! He was so kind and Lady Catherine was so horrid… Even Anne said he did, but he cannot, he cannot! Lady Catherine told me. She told me that he could only love Anne. His father decreed in his will that he must marry Anne or else be a pauper! How could he love me? How?"

Georgiana managed to work herself up into a hysteria, which released itself in another wave of silent tears as Elizabeth tried her best to comfort her. Memories from Hunsford appeared to dance mockingly around the room. After Georgiana had finished cleansing herself, they continued to sit in meditative silence.

"Georgiana," Elizabeth began gently. "You are a beautiful, clever, compassionate girl. How could anyone not fall in love with you?"

Georgiana eyes began to water again so Elizabeth plowed on.

"I am very sorry we sent you to Hunsford all by yourself. How you survived I will never guess."

"Mrs. Collins was an admirable friend. I was always welcomed at her house," Georgiana replied, getting up from sofa and pulling her shawl around her.

"She is," Elizabeth agreed. "I had great hopes that you would find her so. I am glad to hear it."

Georgiana smiled weakly and grabbed a brush off her vanity. "Mina is such a darling child."

Elizabeth grinned. "I cannot wait to see her. The Collins' are coming after Christmas."

"Would you like to see her now? I've been working on a painting for Mrs. Collins for Christmas," Georgiana asked as she made her way over to her satchel of drawings.

"Of course I would!" Elizabeth exclaimed, eagerly bouncing off the couch to observe it.

Georgiana drew forth the painting and Elizabeth praised it admirably. "She looks so angelic," Elizabeth mused.

"She is fairly good, as much as her mother complains. Lady Lucas dotes on the child. She really only has that one tuft of hair there," Georgiana continued, pointing to the crown of the child's head.

Elizabeth agreed distractedly. Georgiana looked up and paled as she recognized the sketch currently occupying Elizabeth's attention. It was the foolish sketch she could not bear to throw away that horrid day when Lady Catherine had revealed all to her. Elizabeth met her gaze, one arched eyebrow perfectly communicating her speculation about Georgiana's true emotions.

"It was folly, Elizabeth. Pure folly," Georgiana answered, snatching the drawing out of Elizabeth's grasp. "He is to marry Anne and that is the beginning and end of it."

Elizabeth sighed. "I know, Georgiana. I do wish it could be different. I long to see you happy."

"I shall be fine, Elizabeth. I shall," she repeated with conviction. "I have conquered my foolishness over one man, why not another?"

Elizabeth grimly nodded, deeply saddened at the tainted beauty before her. Georgiana was very much like her sister Jane, and could have easily survived without knowing there was not half so much evil in the world. Placing a kiss on Georgiana's hair, she bid her good night and left her to her musings. Elizabeth could tell that Georgiana desired solitude.

Elizabeth finally reached her bedchamber and quickly retired in her comfortable nightdress. Book in hand, she set her candle on her bedside table to await her husband. Lost in the pages, she was not aware of his presence until he spoke from the edge of the bed.

"You look beautiful tonight," he whispered, placing a kiss on the side of her neck. She squirmed and closed her book.

"I suppose you are tolerable," she conceded, mischief glinting through her features.

"To be only tolerable!" He cried in mock outrage. "This is not to be borne, Elizabeth!"

"I am certain you will rally in short time," she replied nonchalantly.

"You may count on it."

* * *

"Oh I declare, nothing could make my holiday happier! Just to think, soon I shall have only one daughter left to marry off. I have done very well for my girls, have I not?" Mrs. Bennet, puffed up with pride and feathers, proclaimed to her sister who agreed accordingly.

Mr. Bennet shook his head at Elizabeth while the rest of the party swirled around Longbourn. Darcy was engaged with Bingley who was wishing Mary every bit of happiness on the part of him and his wife. Mary glowed with pleasure and had finally reached her bloom. Her beau waited joyfully next to her, receiving their compliments.

"I am truly happy for her," Elizabeth stated as she took a sip of her punch. "I am surprised they did not wait until after Christmas."

Mr. Bennet chuckled. "He is a patient man, but I suppose all men can be driven to action. It will be good for her to have a house of her own and someone to fawn over her. At least she possesses a plethora of sense, which her younger sisters want. She is not making a match of pure desire."

Elizabeth reflected on her father's musings and believed him to be fairly accurate in his assessment. Her eyes caught Kitty sitting rather glumly in the corner. She was the only one yet unmarried or engaged and she felt the slight keenly. True, she had been second fiddle to Lydia, but the two had always lauded their superiority over Mary. Georgiana's own dim spirits were hardly able to support her friend and the pair was rather dejected during the joyous season. There was one person of the current party that Elizabeth desperately desired to speak too. Kit had avoided her at any other chance meetings and she felt a strong need to see how he faired.

Dinner served to place him next to her, much to the chagrin of her husband and her prey. Darcy connived to focus the conversation on a topic which Elizabeth would participate in, but fell victim to Bingley's business assessment over the white soup. Elizabeth seized her opportunity and claimed Kit's attention as soon as he was free. He remained wary of her and kept his answers polite and guarded, and it was obvious he was hoping for an opening to insert himself in the other conversation.

"Kit," she began in a low, earnest voice. "Please, do not avoid me like this. It pains me to see a good friendship go to waste."

His eyes hardened and rested behind her shoulder. She could tell he had not yet forgiven her for her transgression. "It was not simply friendship, Lizzy, and you are well aware of that," he replied, his voice cold, barely concealing the pulsing betrayal.

Elizabeth blushed a bit with shame and frustration, desperate to patch up their previous companionship. At that moment, Darcy broke free from his conversation and, placing a hand gently on her arm, drew her focus back on himself. Elizabeth could feel the burning hatred of their gazes brushing past her back, scorching through the lace of her gown. Confining herself to the conversation at the higher end of the table, she respected Kit's wishes. It was clear that he had no desire to continue their acquaintance, as much as she wished otherwise.

At the close of the meal, Bingley rose and gave a rousing toast to the newly engaged couple who beamed and blushed accordingly. However, they soon gave their apologies as they had promised Jane to return early.

"Oh, of course, my dear Jane!" Mrs. Bennet crowed. "Oh, her state vexes my nerves quite terribly. Be sure, Mr. Bingley, that she follows all of Mr. Jones' recommendations. She is such a gentle girl. I do not think she would be foolish, but you can never tell what might get into her head when confined all day. Oh, do not dally sir! You must be off directly!"

They had never received a quicker dismissal from Longbourn and Darcy even whispered to Elizabeth that one of the party must always claim fatigue.

"I am afraid, good sir," she replied laughingly to his mischievous eyes. "That only Jane can demand that concern. Should I be held up by an ailment, she would suspect nothing less than subterfuge."

The party piled into the carriage, Bingley and Darcy mounting their horses in the stable yard. Once they returned to Netherfield, Bingley flew to his bedchamber to see his wife. They laughed at his desperation and retired to the evening parlor. Miss Bingley promptly began a recitation of the clothing worn, enhanced by her own artistic opinion. As soon she paused for breath, Elizabeth entreated Georgiana to perform on the piano for them, as it was Christmas Eve. Noticing Georgiana reluctance, she stated that she would sing only if Georgiana would be so kind as to accompany her. Georgiana readily accepted and filled the parlor with music, persuading the others to join in.

As his strong baritone mixed into the harmony of the room, Darcy mused that he had never dreamt of such a wonderful evening as this. Even when he had tortured himself with visions of Elizabeth as his wife, he had never anticipated such felicity. Her eyes glowed and sparked as she met his gaze above the heads of the room. In that instant, even with Georgiana and Kitty singing heartfully and Caroline deserting the room, he could hear nothing but his wife, and feel nothing but his love for her.

* * *

They silently filed into the pew at the church; both the Bingleys' absenting themselves due to Jane's condition. Darcy knew that neither had a great inclination for the church, but thought it rather too convenient that they could skip out on Christmas day.

Everyone wore his or her winter finest at Christmas. The mass of bonnets, lace, and flowers strewn about the church aptly portrayed a pretentious flock, more akin to exotic birds than sheep. He glanced down at Elizabeth, her prayer book clutched lightly in one gloved hand that disappeared into a deep green velvet gown. It was edged in cream and gold that soared up to a delicate lace that circled her throat. Of her face, he could see nothing, for the cream bonnet blocked his view. He had noticed earlier that both her and Georgiana made the perfect holly bush when next to each other. His wife had informed him that his attire was very tolerable, but he knew her enough to see the true compliment within her teasing.

The service was pleasant and fitting to the occasion, and afterward, he was surprised to see that the Gardiner's had come. They all chatted amiably at the hall of the church and arranged for a small quiet dinner that evening. After running to the carriages to escape the winter cold, they headed back toward Netherfield. Elizabeth eagerly went and relayed the sermon to her sister who lamented her inability to attend. Caroline fled Jane's room as soon as the party arrived. She detested sitting and watching her brother make a fool of himself in front of his wife.

After a delicious luncheon, the party was finally able to enjoy their gifts. True, some had been received that morning, but it was mainly a few trinkets and such. Bingley gently guided his wife toward one of the warmest spare rooms on the top floor and they all retired there to open their presents. Kitty could barely contain her excitement and exclaimed in joy when she received her first present, a beautiful red and black gown. She held it up and ran to the mirror, marveling at how sophisticated it made her look. Elizabeth laughed as she continued handing out gifts.

Even melancholy Georgiana was able to smile at her good fortune. For Elizabeth, seeing her happy was one of the greatest gifts of the day. Georgiana's smile grew wider as she unwrapped music, books, and gowns.

"Oh, that is just so pretty!" Kitty squealed, eyeing the white gown with an underskirt of cherry red. Georgiana smiled and demurely agreed.

Jane soon retired, mainly due to Bingley's concern for her health. He was worried that she would become ill again. After their departure, Caroline retired to her rooms, for what purpose none of them could fathom. The unbearable heat of the fire cooled and they were all comfortably spread about the room. Kitty was eagerly showing Georgiana her fine set of brushes, which left Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam at tête-à-tête in the corner.

"Will you try these for me?" He asked, picking up the splendid set of emeralds he had had made for her.

"If you insist," she laughed, feigning supreme reluctance. He clasped them around her neck and reveled in the shimmering beauty they added to his wife. She had confessed months ago that she had always yearned for a set of emeralds after seeing a pair when in London as a girl.

All he could murmur was "Elizabeth" before stealing a soft kiss. Smiling, she turned away and motioned to their siblings. With true reluctance, he allowed her to lead him over so she could inspect their progress. Their Christmas passed quietly, each group off in their own pleasures. Georgiana and Kitty were sequestered in their favorite study while Jane and Bingley remain ensconced in their room. Fitzwilliam finally got his wish and was able to get his wife on a horse.

Fitzwilliam had a riding outfit made for Elizabeth so she could not refuse. The sun warmed the earth as well as it could and the mare he had picked out for her was as docile as he could find. With supreme trepidation, Elizabeth mounted the beast with his assistance. Once up so high on the back of the creature, she tried to take deep calming breaths while softly reciting every prayer she knew. Fitzwilliam drew up beside her and gently laid a hand on her arm. She jumped and almost spooked the horse.

"Please, Fitzwilliam," she begged. "Is this really necessary?"

He smiled. "Yes. They are not horrid."

She muttered something to the contrary. Withholding a smile, he gently reminded her how to properly hold the reins and just the right amount of force to use without hurting the horse.

"Are you ready?" He asked when he had finished his explanation.

She looked at him balefully and again muttered something under her breath that the wind took away. Interpreting the sound as a yes, he urged his horse forward and waited for her to follow. With a great deal of nervousness and serious misgivings, Elizabeth gently pressed her heels into the side of the horse to get her moving. A slight jolt set her on her way and after a few minutes she began to ease a bit in the saddle. They kept to a straight worn path that would be easiest for her. Darcy's stallion was impatient to be off and tugged at the bit to be free of this plodding pace. Turning back, Darcy called behind and told her he would take his horse out for a quick sprint to get the jitters out of him. Elizabeth nodded her assent and was left with the blank faced mare.

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth felt herself relax, and the horse as well. She loosened her hold on the reigns and let the horse take the lead. Her mare seemed much inclined for a leisurely winter stroll and Elizabeth was more than happy to humor her. After a while, she spotted her husband returning with a definitely calmer horse. They continued their walk and returned with ample time before supper.

The Bennets, Gardiners', and Mr. Stadbury stopped by for the meal. As it was Christmas, they again retired to the spare bedroom that had been made into a decent sitting room for the evening. Jane joined them for half the evening before Mrs. Bennett's exclamations hastened her to bed. Before she left, however, Darcy was sure to crow over his triumph that afternoon.

"I believe some great cheers are in order," he stated, lifting his large glass of wine in a toast. "To Elizabeth Darcy, for finally sitting back on a horse!"

Laughter and shouts of surprise greeted his declaration. Elizabeth flushed and sent him a murderous look.

"Well, how horrible was it, Lizzy?" Kitty asked. "You have returned in one piece."

"It was not horrid, I will grant you that. But I still do not trust the creatures. You can never tell when their tempers might change," Elizabeth replied shortly.

"A true point," Bingley agreed, taking Jane's hand and bidding them all good night.

Mrs. Bennet soon monopolized the conversation after Jane's departure and treated them all to a litany about how Jane should take care of herself. Mary and Mr. Stadbury sat quietly apart from the rest. They braved the chill and remained near the curtains where the light from the fire did not reach very well and the candles were conveniently absent. Mr. Bennet inched his way closer to his favorite daughter for some respite on this Christmas.

"When shall we see you at Pemberley, Papa?" Elizabeth inquired.

"As soon as the wind blows me there. With Mary gone, I am not quite sure how I will manage. Just your mother and I? If Kitty were not doing so well, I would eagerly wish her home," he replied, looking around at his family. "No, no, Lizzy. The wind will most likely blow me there sooner than later. Who knows? By then maybe a man will have set his cap on Kitty."

They laughed and assured him that he would be welcomed at any opportunity, even if they were briefly in London. Mrs. Bennet, upon hearing of this plan, eagerly put in her money's worth, which, all things considering, was not very much. Elizabeth could almost see the wheels in her mother's head churning out all sorts of finery and nobility that such a visit could afford.

* * *

"Bingley! For Heaven's sake, stop pacing!" A very disgruntled Darcy cried out in exasperation. He was quite sure his friend would wear a hole in his library floor.

"I cannot! You would not understand, Darcy. I cannot keep still! What if something has gone wrong? Why is it taking so long?" Bingley asked, worry merged with uncertainty flooding his entire being.

"It is not a quick process, Charles. It takes time," Darcy replied as sagely as he could, deciding it would be wise to take another cup of coffee.

"But this much time? Since midnight? I swear, my poor, sweet Jane! I have never seen her in so much pain!" Bingley cried out again.

"Take this and sit," Darcy ordered, handing his friend a cup and forcing him into a chair. Bingley was able to swallow no more than a few sips before resuming his worrying and pacing.

Darcy kept his gaze glued on the table, certain he would loose what measly breakfast he had had if he watched his friend's progress about the room. Elizabeth had received a summons a few hours after their retiring to bed and had immediately rushed to Jane's room. Darcy was already pulling on his dressing robe when a wild eyed and frightened Bingley burst in his door. Rubbing his tired eyes, Darcy took charge and marshaled him into the library. However, hours of trying to allay Bingley's fears and battling his own tiredness where wearing him thin. It was now almost midday and he prayed it would be over soon.

"Darcy!" Bingley moaned as he flung himself into a chair after fifteen minutes of peace. "A child, Darcy. What have I gotten myself into? I cannot be a father, I cannot."

"Bingley," Darcy muttered through gritted teeth. "You shall be fine. Jane shall be fine. The child shall be fine. Just wait."

The tension it the room kept mounting and Darcy was able to stretch out on the chaise and catch a few winks of sleep. Just when it seemed sleep would finally claim him, a loud knocked jolted him awake. Curbing his nasty retorts, he dimly watched as Bingley flung open the door. Georgiana waited on the other side with a broad smile on her face.

"Mr. Bingley," she began, noting the fearful tinge to his face. "Jane is well and will see you in a few minutes. You have a beautiful daughter."

Bingley's face went into raptures and he barreled past her and down the hall, all the time murmuring "A daughter. I have a daughter."

* * *

_I thought I would be kind after leaving you all with a terrible cliffhanger last chapter. I'll let you all have fun guessing her name. I hope the little refresher at the beginning helped with the flow of the story. I'm sorry for lagging behind in my deadlines, but I got sucked up into Physics review and couldn't finish before my exams began. So, I ran late sending them to Mlle. Skywalker, my wonderful beta, and caught her in the middle of exams as well. _

_Thank you all for staying with me and please review and let me know how you feel this is progressing. Too slow, too fast, or alright?_


	14. Drifting On

**Drifting On**

"Oh, she was such a surprise. And two days after Christmas! Imagine that! She looks just like her mother and I always said that Jane did take after my side of the family," Mrs. Bennet beamed, staring fondly at her new granddaughter. "To be sure, the child is simply an angel. She never cries nor fusses. Just sleeps and smiles all day. I am quite sure even Jane was not as calm. I remember you had such a rough time with Charlotte, but no doubt Mina takes after our side of the family. She is much quieter than dear Charlotte ever was."

The child under discussion shattered the speech with her own shrill cries and belied any claim to perfection that Mrs. Bennet would bestow on her. Lady Lucas bore Mrs. Bennet's disparaging remarks with a practiced air of indifference and used the distraction to quirk an eyebrow and join in her daughter's conversation. Charlotte was praising the portrait Georgiana had painted of Mina, who had been left in the care of the nurse for the day, as they felt another journey in the winter weather would not be advisable. This was their first visit to Netherfield and the newest Bingley was but three weeks old. She had a trace amount of blonde hair and her eyes were still blue. Jane gently rocked the cradle at her feet, unable to stop watching the precious child for any length of time. Bingley, the doting father, would appear at her side every few minutes to check on the child and see if anything was needed.

"Bingley, why in Heaven's name did you and Jane give your daughter that particular name?" Darcy asked teasingly. "You have cursed yourselves. If she is anything like her aunt, she will be a wild thing that you will be helpless to control!"

The party laughed while Elizabeth gave him a swat on his arm. "You had best mind yourself, or you shall truly see how little we can be controlled."

"I think Elizabeth is a lovely name," Maria Lucas offered.

"See?" Elizabeth countered to her husband, crinkling her nose at him.

"But why Lily?" Lady Lucas asked kindly, effectively preventing Mrs. Bennet from offering her own insights.

Bingley swallowed. "It was my mother's name."

After a brief pause he continued. "Besides, we did not wish to give her a very long name, especially as she is such a little person."

Elizabeth shot a wicked grin at her husband whose eyes widened when he realized what she was about to do.

"That is very true. Imagine having the name Fitzwilliam George Walter Cyrus Barnaby Darcy."

Bingley guffawed and the whole party erupted in laughter as Darcy hid his head in his hands.

"Touché, madam," he mumbled in his disgrace.

"I did warn you," she replied calmly, patting his arm in a form of comfort.

A short while later, their meeting was broken by the soft cries of Elizabeth Lily Bingley herself. Jane scooped her up in her arms and rocked her before excusing herself. Bingley followed her out, and did not return before the guests left.

"Did they really leave before luncheon?" Bingley asked in surprise as he settled down to the meal. "Jane will be down shortly," he added in reply to Elizabeth's questioning gaze.

"Yes, thanks to the combined effort of Lady Lucas and Mr. Bennet," Elizabeth replied, Kitty laughing loudly at the remembrance. "They were most effective is ushering Mama out the door."

"Well, all's well that ends well, I suppose," he stated. A manservant brought in the mail and Darcy noticed a thick letter from his secretary in town.

"Where is Mama?" Jane asked as she entered the dining room. The party laughed and repeated the tale.

"The Hurst's are arriving this afternoon, are they not?" Georgiana asked after a time.

"Yes," Miss Bingley immediately answered. "And Mr. Grantley is to be joining them. Are you sure the proper guest room has been prepared for him, Charles? He should have nothing less than the best."

Bingley masked his disdain well and assured her that all had been taken care of.

"Still, I should like to have Mrs. Fanning show me the room, just to be sure. Have you moved into Miss Bennet's room, dear Georgiana?" Caroline continued in her haughty manner.

"Yes, Miss Bingley," Georgiana replied, tactfully ignoring the insult and trying not to laugh at the rude faces Kitty was making.

"I swear," Kitty declared as they left the dining room. "If I have to hear one more word about Mr. Grantley's dinner preferences, I'll go mad! Honestly! The man has not even arrived and I wish him harm."

"Kitty!' Georgiana exclaimed in shock, though unable to withhold the laughter that had been threatening to burst the entire time they had listened to Miss Bingley's monologue.

The pair vented as they journeyed upstairs to ready themselves for the brief ride they had been planning since the day before. Elizabeth cheerfully stated that she was unable to join them and decided to visit her sister instead. She made her way to the nursery where the little Elizabeth lay sleeping in her cradle. Jane spent nearly every spare minute there, simply watching her child. Elizabeth found her perched on a chair, her delicate foot gently rocking her child's cradle. The nurse dearly appreciated the respite of caring for such a demanding child and encouraged her mistress in this pursuit.

"Jane?" Elizabeth whispered, wondering if it was wise to venture into the dimly lit room.

"Come in, Elizabeth," Jane answered with a smile, the firelight half-illuminating her tired face. The month of confinement had sapped a lot of strength from her as she doggedly looked after her daughter as best she could. Even with an army of servants behind her, she could not fully trust anyone else with the little Elizabeth. As a result, she grew highly protective of her daughter. The servants, like the nurse, were eager to encourage her and took advantage of it at every opportunity.

"How is she?" Elizabeth asked after she was settled on a chair opposite her sister. She loosened her shawl after discovering the immense heat of the fire.

"She is finally sleeping and all is well. I do not understand why she fusses so much. Mr. Jones and the midwife cannot explain it. It could be colic, but I believe it is a bit too soon to know about that," Jane rambled, her eyes fighting sleep and focusing solely on her daughter.

"Perhaps it is because she knows Mama will always be there to soothe her?" Elizabeth teased gently.

"You shall see when you have your own children, Lizzy," Jane warned with a knowing smile, though it faltered at the downcast look on Elizabeth's face. "Do not worry, Lizzy. It will all happen in good time."

Elizabeth gave a small smile that Jane knew to be not genuine. "As it should. 'Good things come to those who wait,' is it not?"

"Yes, Lizzy. But it is not something to be ashamed of, you know," Jane continued, giving her sister a comforting look. "Plenty of women do not have children before they have been married for at least three years."

"Thank you, Jane," Elizabeth replied with an air of finality. She knew the truth as well as Jane did, but it did not help the sense of inferiority or failure when each passing month revealed she was no sooner to be blessed with her own child.

After a few minutes, Elizabeth broached a subject that had preyed on her since the mail arrived. "Did you receive any mail from Lydia?"

Jane looked up in concern. "Yes, but I have not had the chance to open it yet."

"Would you mind reading it? I believe it to be of some importance. I will gladly watch my namesake for you," Elizabeth added with a twinkle in her eye for the nervous Mama.

"Very well," Jane answered, reluctantly leaving her daughter and returning in record time.

Once she settled back in the chair and checked that her daughter had not moved in the few seconds she was gone, Jane opened the letter and held it in the light. As she read, a crease formed on her tired forehead and she let out a sigh.

"Poor Lydia," she sighed again as she finished the letter and looked up at Elizabeth.

"What does she write?" Elizabeth asked.

"She writes to ask for some monetary assistance. Apparently Mr. Wickham's regiment is moving further North, but they have incurred some debt-"

"Mainly in procurement of a nurse for their son?" Elizabeth finished, meeting Jane's shocked eyes. "Yes, she wrote the same to me."

"You do not think their claim is genuine," Jane replied, more as a statement than a question.

"I do not doubt that they have incurred debt, but whether it is truly for their son I highly doubt. To be asking for at least 400 pounds, they must have incurred more than just a nurse for their son. I have no doubt in my mind that they have been exceeding their income in a gross manner. They are both accustomed to living far above their present station."

"That is true, Lizzy, but we cannot always fault them for their previous flaws. How can we give the opportunity to improve themselves if we always doubt them?" Jane replied thoughtfully, tucking a blanket back under her daughter.

"I would prefer to see them earn our trust by maintaining their income and not constantly begging for money. In her letter congratulating me on my marriage, Lydia openly asked for money or a different employment for Wickham. Fitzwilliam and I had such an argument when he saw that letter," Elizabeth remembered, shaking her head.

"A argument?" Jane echoed perplexedly. "I'm sure it was nothing serious, Lizzy. You must have made up in half an hour."

Jane stopped as Elizabeth shook her head. "No, it was more like a couple of days."

"Days!" Jane exclaimed in shock. "My goodness!"

"Fitzwilliam and I are both very obstinate when we wish to be, Jane. Neither of us felt in the wrong and it was the first time either of us had been really upset over something."

"I understand," Jane replied. "Charles and I had a bit of a fight once. His steward had just given him a very grim report on the state of things here at Netherfield and I insisted on bothering him with a trifling question. He snapped at me and I felt so wretched that I went to the parlor and cried. He came and found me in less than a quarter hour to apologize and he felt so horrible. He was most especially kind to me for days after that."

Elizabeth smiled as she marveled at her sister's naïveté. Only Jane would have regarded such a small event as worthy of the status of argument.

"I am quite sure he was," was all she managed to say on that topic.

Jane nodded. "We have such a hard time agreeing on things. It is a miracle little Elizabeth did not end up with a long list of names. Neither of us wishes to hurt the other by out rightly refusing a name and we each wished the other's choice to be first. If it was not for both of our high regard for you, she would yet not have a name," Jane smiled.

"Then I am heartily glad my assistance was not limited to just the donation of a name," Elizabeth replied with a cheeky smile.

They lapsed into silence for a brief few moments before the child woke up. Jane instantly jumped to her and tried to soothe her. Soon realizing the child was hungry, she kindly asked for some privacy, which Elizabeth granted after blushing a bright shade of red. Leaving the room, she meandered into the general vicinity of the library, which she knew Fitzwilliam had commandeered. She wondered if she should even mention the letter to him, but she did not wish for an accidental discovery like last time. Lydia was her sister, however ill guided and selfish she was. Plus, it was no fault of the child's to have been born to such thoughtless parents, and who was she to decree that the child must not be well provided for. Then there was Jane's argument that they deserved a chance to prove themselves.

Most of all, she wished to avoid another fight with Fitzwilliam. She knew anything involving Wickham caused her husband pain, and going behind his back did not appeal to her either. Bingley would never object to sending them money, especially as he was still ignorant of the most intimate particulars, but it did not seem fair to her that they bear the added financial burden. After pacing the hallway for a quarter hour, she finally gathered up her courage and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" Came the curt reply from behind the door.

She entered somewhat warily and was relieved to see he had not received any horrible news. His brow was creased in thought and she knew whatever problem had presented itself was something that he would be able to solve. It was on that rare occasion when something seemed unmanageable that he would become more irritable until he could find the answer. He would usually be pacing and she would generally leave him in peace until he could settle on something that he could agree on.

"What news from town?" She asked politely as she approached his desk.

"Nothing too serious," he replied, still eyeing the paper in his hand. "Mr. Davies wrote about some business investments we have with certain merchants. He thinks it is advisable to switch our patron ship to other companies. He is strongly hinting that I return to London for a spell to work on these accounts."

"When shall you leave?" Elizabeth asked, immediately disheartened.

"Not until he expressly asks for my company. He has a habit of calling me constantly when he can usually sort out the matters himself. He is a very shrewd man, but he does not wish to anger me by dabbling in companies I might not approve of. I shall be here and secure for a few more weeks, at best," he concluded, setting down his paper and bestowing a kiss on his wife's cheek. "What is your opinion?"

"Shall you travel alone, then?" She questioned, trying to pass off the question as casually as she could.

"Only if you do not wish to accompany me. We have not had much chance to be alone, just the two of us," he stated, his eyes lighting up with the idea. "Georgiana and Kitty are no trouble to Jane and Miss Bingley shall be out of everyone's hair by then."

"True, but they will never forgive us for leaving them behind," she added, pulling up a chair next to her husband.

"Kitty will, but Georgiana will be relieved. Besides, they will understand once they are married," he replied with conviction, his manner open and content. "So, what has made you venture into my make-shift study? You usually have some sort of mission in mind."

Elizabeth's face immediately clouded over and she felt her queasiness increase exponentially. "Well... I had received a letter that does not contain happy news and I know you will be very upset once you read it. But I felt I could not keep the knowledge from you and I do not want any suspicion or secrets in our marriage."

Fitzwilliam was a clever man and he easily guessed whose letter could have ignited such reticence in his wife. "Lydia?" He asked through gritted teeth and forced composure.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied in a small voice, hoping to avoid another argument like the one they had had when Lydia had previously written. "She is asking for money again saying they are in debt since they had to pay for a nurse for their son. I find it highly suspicious, and she wrote a nearly identical letter to Jane."

Fitzwilliam sat in silence for a few moments, trying to reign in his thoughts and emotions so he could honor the promise he had given his wife before. "And what do you wish to do?"

"Well..." Elizabeth began, unsure of how to voice her thoughts. "I do not believe their claim is true, but Jane insisted we ought to give them a chance to mend their ways, no matter how unlikely it would be. I personally think it would be unfair for the child to be at a disadvantage simply because his parents are foolish. I should like to offer them some assistance, though not nearly what she is demanding."

"Bingley is certainly much to kind and would settle whatever is left over in order to help them," Fitzwilliam mused.

"That is what I believe and I do not believe it is fair on them, especially now that they have their own child," Elizabeth continued, hoping they could finish out their conversation soon.

"How much is she asking for?" He questioned.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and muttered, "Four hundred pounds"

Fitzwilliam raised his eyebrows in shock and she hastily continued. "I think such a sum is certainly unreasonable, but I can imagine both of them exceeding their income in a shocking manner. Wickham's regiment is moving further north, and they have left a lot of debts."

Fitzwilliam sighed and rubbed his temple. "I shall give them this sum, but after this, I would prefer to remain ignorant of their dealings. Should they desire any reasonable sum, feel free to give it. I shall not question your spending, but anything connected to the name of Wickham shall not be mentioned."

Elizabeth jumped up form the chair and kissed her husband soundly, tears of joy and pride bursting forth. She had been so terrified that he would rage like before, but he had proven that he was master of himself.

"You cannot imagine how indebted I am to you, Fitzwilliam," she replied, her words full of her gratitude. "I was... I was heartily afraid that-"

"What is done is done, Elizabeth. I would rather adopt your outlook on this matter and forget about my folly for the moment," he stated firmly, still embarrassed at his previous treatment of her.

"As you wish," she answered happily, drawing closer to him. "But you cannot honestly understand how happy and proud I am."

He smiled and they quickly, and effectively, put the matter behind them.

* * *

"Why do we have to wait here for them? They hate us!" Kitty moaned as they sat in the drawing room parlor.

"Because they are Bingley's relatives and are therefore our relatives too," Elizabeth replied, ignoring Kitty's second remark.

"But Mrs. Hurst does not care two straws for us and Miss Bingley will never come down from her high horse now that her beau is here," Kitty continued stubbornly.

"Does she not have a right to be happy?" Elizabeth countered, hoping to end the argument that had been brewing for days.

"She does, but she does not have to be so cruel all the time. Honestly! Why must Georgiana give up her room for that man that no one really knows? How can Mr. Bingley tolerate it?"

"He is a guest and must be treated as one. Would you like it if a man you liked came to meet our family and he was shunted to the side like an unwanted animal?"

"But he is an unwanted animal," Kitty muttered mutinously.

"Kitty," Elizabeth warned, her voice fast becoming weary. "It takes all kinds of people to make up this world."

"Fine! I understand! But it does not mean I shall like him any better," Kitty cried in one last effort.

"I do not ask that you like him, merely be proper and civil," Elizabeth stated exasperated.

"I will!" Kitty exclaimed, frustrated as well.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and rubbed her head as she felt a headache form. She had become much more prone to headaches of late and she wished to find an excuse to escape the upcoming encounter as much as her sister. Miss Bingley was more than insufferable lately, but Elizabeth hoped the arrival of Mr. Grantley would shift Miss Bingley's attention. Fitzwilliam sat down next to her and offered a comforting arm around her shoulder. She leaned against him and sighed while Georgiana worked across the room to comfort Kitty. She saw Kitty let out a small smile, but the sour expression remained on her face.

"Do you think there is any possibility of escaping early?" Elizabeth asked her husband.

"Well," he replied. "One could try the usual claim to fatigue or sudden illness. You have been a bit ill lately."

Elizabeth sighed. "True. But then again, I do not wish to leave Jane all alone."

"Bingley will watch out for her," Fitzwilliam answered comfortingly. "And if all else fails, there is always her daughter to bail her out such trouble. She is an Elizabeth, after all."

Elizabeth gave him a pert look before resting her head on his shoulder. The door opened and revealed Bingley and Jane, wearing forced smiles that looked more like grimaces.

"They have retired to their rooms, but promise to be down shortly," Bingley informed them, settling heavily on the chaise with his wife.

"How wonderful," Kitty muttered from her corner of the room. Elizabeth sent her a warning glare, which merely made the girl defensive. "What? They have not even come in yet!"

Elizabeth shook her head and decided the argument was not worth starting up again. Jane gave her a pitying look, fully aware of the recent conflicts sprouting around Kitty. She had been in a foul temper after Mary's engagement.

"I will return in a moment," Jane announced as she rose. "I wish to check on Elizabeth."

"But I am right here," Elizabeth replied teasingly.

"Lizzy," Jane began, but Elizabeth held up her hands in defeat.

"I am aware, I was only teasing. Though I do think it would be wise for you to give the child a nickname," Elizabeth responded, moving her gaze over to Charles.

"Only please do not make it 'Lizzy,'" Darcy quickly added, giving his wife a teasing look. "I think one is plenty."

"Well naturally. I am one of a kind," Elizabeth replied with a perfect air of false modesty that set them all laughing. Jane left and left Charles to explain.

"Actually, we have been thinking about that. We both agreed on Beth. What do you think?" Bingley asked eagerly.

"Beth," Elizabeth repeated, testing the name on her tongue. She gave him a large smile. "Beth is perfect."

Charles beamed and they chatted briefly on the subject of names. Kitty pursued her painting and Georgiana worked a blanket for the newly christened Beth. Bingley and Darcy began discussing the latest news on Napoleon, leaving Elizabeth to pick up her latest piece of embroidery.

Jane returned a good quarter hour later and they all received an update on the infant. After picking up her own embroidery, Jane led Elizabeth in a discussion of the dinner party they were to have for Kitty's birthday.

"We ought to have it on her birthday, do you not agree? She dearly loves entertainment and socializing."

"I think it a perfect idea, though Mr. Darcy mentioned that we might have to return to London in about three weeks time," Elizabeth stated, glancing up at Kitty who remained immersed in her painting.

"Oh, so soon?" Jane asked, unable to quell her obvious disappointment.

"We have been here since November, Jane. I daresay we shall have to move on. Mr. Darcy and I are to remove to London for about a fortnight and Kitty and Georgiana will remain with you, if that is agreeable."

"That will be fine. It is better than everyone leaving at once. I believe the Hurst's and Mr. Grantley shall only be staying a fortnight. I know Mr. Grantley has to return to his family's home in Devon. Perhaps we can make Kitty's dinner a bit of a farewell for you and Mr. Darcy."

"I do not think Kitty would be agreeable to that. It is her day; we ought to let her have it. She is not feeling very charitable with me at the moment."

"That is true."

"She does not take kindly to Miss Bingley's constant remarks, nor my telling her she must treat others civilly even if they do not."

"It is a lesson she needs to learn. I have been sorely unhelpful with her. Perhaps she could remain at Netherfield while you, Mr. Darcy, and Miss Darcy return to Pemberley."

"We shall have to ask her opinion. She and Georgiana have become quite the pair and they might not wish to be parted."

At that moment the door opened and the servant announced the arrival of their guests. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, as ostentatious as ever, entered, their high-flying fashions mystifying the room and causing Kitty to hide her mouth with her hand. After them came Miss Bingley on the arm of her beau, her nose, if quite possible, higher than ever. Mr. Grantley was an older man, reasonably handsome, but his face wore the pinched look of one accustomed to looking down their nose at others. Elizabeth immediately recognized the general snobbery in his features that graced Miss Bingley.

The greetings exchanged were polite and ceremonial. Mr. Hurst settled himself nearest the bottle of wine while his wife haughtily took the place next to her sister. Mr. Grantley sat rigidly on the other side of Miss Bingley and surveyed the room. His eyes narrowed when he alighted on Kitty and narrowed still farther when he swept past Elizabeth and her husband.

"I do hope your trip was pleasant," Elizabeth offered civilly as she tied up the lose threads of her embroidery.

"The weather was tolerable," Mr. Grantley stated shortly, his voice the veneer of perfect, polished society.

An awkward silence remained after his comment. Bingley rallied himself and proceeded with the halting conversation.

"Do you find your rooms to your liking?"

"Yes. The view is pleasant," he continued in the same clipped manner.

"I picked those rooms especially for you," Caroline added, placing her hand on his. Kitty bristled at those words, but swift intervention from Georgiana prevented her from making a scene.

"Thank you, my dear," he answered coolly without much feeling behind the words.

"Have you been to Hertfordshire before, sir?" Jane asked pleasantly.

"Only to pass through when some of the roads are blocked. I did not think that there was more than a handful of members of high society here."

Elizabeth and Kitty were instantly provoked, yet kept their tempers admirably. Miss Bingley wore a look of such smugness that it only heightened their anger. She swept her gaze condescendingly about the room and Elizabeth was visibly struck that Lady Catherine must have looked very similar while she was young. The atmosphere remained tight and full of tension. A collective sigh of relief was uttered when a servant announced that it was time to change for supper.

Mr. Grantley rose sedately and leisurely bowed out of the room with Caroline's arm entwined with his. The Hurst's left after and Kitty let out a scream of frustration.

"How are we to endure that for two weeks? Two weeks, Lizzy! Are you mad?" She burst out, her temper far beyond control.

"I daresay we shall all be occupied with other activities. It is highly unlikely that every waking moment would be spent in their company. After tonight, even when we are in their company, it will not appear rude to be sewing or painting or any such thing," Elizabeth offered placidly, trying to soothe her sister.

Kitty huffed and stormed out of the room, Georgiana close on her heels to try and calm her down before supper began. Darcy securely wrapped his arm around Elizabeth, leading her away from Jane's sympathizing glance and up to her room.

Supper passed in the same stilted manner, though the fashion wore by the newcomers and Miss Bingley were shockingly formal. Kitty blessed Georgiana for suggesting she wear her pretty gown from Christmas. However, the true nature of her apparel would soon be revealed after subsequent meals. Kitty's anger mounted swiftly. How could she hope to win a man with such a limited amount of gowns to wear? The thought of a distant letter floated into her mind and calmed her. True, she had written to him weeks ago and had not yet received a reply, but she was convinced he was merely otherwise occupied with numerous engagements. Or perhaps the post went astray, as it was often wont to. The post was most unreliable.

Thankfully, the men retired to the study after supper and let the ladies split off in the drawing room. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst eagerly huddled together on one couch and thoroughly ignored the rest of the room. Jane was very hurt, but she masked it well and was able to chat almost cheerfully to her sisters.

Soon after the men arrived, the girls were persuaded to sing for them. Miss Bingley naturally performed first and graced them all with a perfect, though unfeeling, concerto. Gliding past Miss Darcy to accept her civil praises, she loudly insisted that Miss Darcy oblige them with a song. Georgiana blanched, but took a couple of calming breaths to try and soothe her nerves. Her pleading look to Elizabeth was not unheeded, and the pair settled themselves at the piano; one to play, the other to turn pages.

The evening passed quicker than the afternoon had. Mr. Grantley, after the ladies had dismissed themselves, expressed his desire to meet privately with Bingley the following day. Bingley looked momentarily taken aback before resuming his usual buoyant looks and heartily agreeing.

* * *

Kitty greeted her special dinner party with exuberant enthusiasm. The thought that everyone was there for her helped her play the part of a very gracious host and keep her mindful of her manners. Elizabeth was pleased with this unexpected outcome and renewed hope of making Kitty a truly respectable young lady.

However, this opinion was not shared by Mrs. Bennet. Having married off the rest of her daughters, she could only look at Kitty as an object of failure, especially having Lydia married so young. She loudly lamented Kitty's defaults to her sister in tones that left everyone in the vicinity feeling decidedly awkward. Convinced as she was that Kitty held no talents, was not as pretty as her other sisters, and currently had no marriage prospects caused her excitable nerves no inconsiderate amount of alarm. Kitty left the room twice to try and stem the tears forming behind her eyes. She valiantly thought of the lovely letter Mr. Stafford had sent her nearly a month ago and it raised her spirits enough to help ignore her mother.

This new resolve would still not allow her to partake of Mary's felicity. She managed polite congratulations, but otherwise ignored her sister and beau. For the duration of the party she remained firmly at Miss Maria Lucas' side and told her in whispered words of glee the truth of Miss Bingley's engagement.

"Only think, Maria. I had it from Jane herself!" Kitty explained to her friend over their third glass of punch. "That man cares little for her, but desired a hostess! A hostess! Can you believe it? I cannot, and she has gone and accepted him!"

Maria Lucas' face was the perfection of horror. "But... she does not love him. That is horrible. How could they let her make such a match?"

"She is truly horrible woman and they shall be quite happy together," Kitty spat shortly, her vehemence in full force whenever confronted by engaged couples. "Her desire is his money and he is frightfully rich."

This last was murmured wistfully. Maria gave her friend a sympathetic look and silence fell, soon punctured by Mrs. Bennet's carrying voice.

"I declare she will end an old maid! She has been off with Lizzy for months now and not even a hint of an engagement! I thought she would meet some rich men, but it seems my schemes are for naught. I tried to convince Lizzy to have her stay at Longbourn. Lord knows I need help with my poor nerves. But what do you think? She flatly refused, said it was up to Kitty. And Kitty! She up and declared she would stay with her sister, nothing I said could move her. Oh dear, I know not, sister, what shall become of me. I shall die alone and forgotten with my poor nerves."

Their Aunt Phillips replied in softer tones that could not reach them, but the damage was done. Kitty was an unbecoming shade of red and her friend could do not more than look on with deepest sympathy. Seizing her courage, Maria ventured to distract her friend from her mother's words.

"When shall you be leaving us? I know your sister and Mr. Darcy are to leave by the end of the week."

"I shall leave in a fortnight. They desired some time to themselves and Georgiana and I are quite comfortable here. Then we shall join them in London and leave for Pemberley directly, depending on the weather. I do wish we could stay a fortnight in London too, but they are all impatient to be at Pemberley. It would not be so dull if they would entertain," Kitty lamented, thankful and eager to cease thought of Mrs. Bennet.

"But was there not a new parson at Pemberley?" Maria asked, reflecting on how often she had visited Rosings while last in Kent.

"True, but he hardly counts as entertainment," Kitty replied dismissively.

Across the room, Elizabeth found herself briefly separated from her husband. He had joined a conversation of little interest to her and she decided to elicit the attention of her impending brother. Greeting him gently, she began a conversation, realizing as she did so that there was relatively little she knew about him.

"I hope you have found Meryton much to your liking. You hailed from Essex, I understand."

"Yes. I am the fourth son and we are not very high in society," he answered matter-of-factly.

"I see. Will you remain in Meryton?" Elizabeth questioned with honest curiosity.

"Yes. Your uncle's business remains here and I hope to one day rise up and be of great service," he declared passionately, the most emotion Elizabeth had seen in this reserved man.

"I am sure Mary encourages this ambition," she continued, taking a sip of her punch.

"Very much so, as does her uncle. He would like the business to remain with the family," he replied honestly.

"You seem to have a very deep affection for my sister. She had yet to find her match in reading and philosophy," she stated shrewdly, gazing hard at the man next to her.

Being an intelligent man, he caught her assumption readily. "I may not have a very deep affection for your sister, but I prefer her companionship much more than frippery girls with naught in their heads but ribbons."

Elizabeth looked affronted and he hastily continued.

"Please do not be angry at me, Mrs. Darcy. It is not in my nature to love most passionately. I cannot love your sister as such, but she is a very welcome companion. She is of a similar nature. Not all of us can be blessed with your good fortune. Hopefully, in time, we can have that level of devotion," he stated earnestly.

Elizabeth smiled. "I cannot say anything to such honesty. You are very brave, brother, and I hope you both do find that felicity. I do not wish to see any of my sisters unhappy."

Mr. Stadbury smiled. "A very noble desire, sister. I shall keep your sister happy, I assure you."

Elizabeth offered him a comforting smile before they quickly parted. As she moved away, she was pleased that she had controlled her temper. It seemed to be much shorter these days. Gazing about the room, she found her husband and informed him that she was retiring early. He looked concerned, but she claimed her head ached. She assured him a long rest would cure her wonderfully. He escorted her up to their chambers before seizing her in a lasting embrace.

"Now I can face the rest of the night," he murmured as they parted. "Sleep well."

Elizabeth mumbled the same after him before seeking the relief of her bed.

* * *

On the third night of their being in London, Fitzwilliam watched his wife struggle to retain her composure as they tried to listen to the stern butler. Her eyes were bright with mischief and the smirk on her face; coupled with the brow she slowly raised at him, served to inform him that she knew exactly what she was doing. He was having a most difficult time trying to keep his face attentive and not offend the man before him. Just as they had entered through the door, she had grasped his hand and held it securely behind her back. She stood so close to him, her hem brushing his boots, that the butler was none the wiser. Now, after a night of playful banter between them, she was enacting revenge. She knew full well that those caresses, snaking inside the sleeve of his coat, undid him. The torture she was putting him through now was incalculable.

"Thank you," Darcy replied to his butler's question, hoping the man did not realize his master had not comprehended a word. As soon as the man's back was turned, Elizabeth used her free hand to stifle the laughter threatening to split the grin on her face.

"You," Fitzwilliam accused, spinning his wife and capturing her eyes. His burned with a myriad of emotions before he quickly led her down the first hallway, her hand now captured in his.

"Fitzwilliam!" She called as the antique paintings rushed past her. "Where are we going?"

"The study," he ground out.

With a sudden stop, he fiddled with the catch on the door and quickly ushered his wife through the doorway. The door shut swiftly and he whisked Elizabeth into a passionate kiss.

"What a marvelous show! I think all this waiting around was properly rewarded," a sickeningly amused voice greeted from the fireplace.

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam jumped apart instantly, both blushing a deep scarlet, trying to straighten themselves out.

"Oh come! You needn't stop for me," Colonel Fitzwilliam teased further, his laughing eyes watching them expectantly.

"Richard, what are you doing here?" Darcy asked, his voice, when he finally found it, a deep threatening growl.

"Waiting to see you, my dear cousin. It has been ages and I have not had the opportunity to greet your new wife properly. How do you do, my dear Mrs. Darcy?" He asked politely, trying to return the situation to one less awkward for all involved.

"Very well, thank you Colonel," she answered neutrally, dipping into a curtsey to avoid looking at his face.

"As I see," he replied blandly, his eyes sparkling in acute mischief. "Perhaps I should call at a better time?"

"There is no need, Colonel," Elizabeth replied smoothly, unwilling to let him retain the upper hand. "For then we should have to meet you again."

The Colonel clutched his heart theatrically and fell on the couch. "Touché, madam," he answered in a long-suffering voice while his cousin laughed.

The couple took the chairs opposite him and a maid arrived with a tray laden with sweet cakes and tea. She politely dismissed herself before they began in earnest.

"So, Richard," Fitzwilliam began as he made his way over to the liquor cabinet. "What is the true reason for this visit? Have you run through your allowance already?"

"No," Richard replied quickly, fidgeting like a child. "I merely wished to call on the relations who so sorely neglected me."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and blew on her tea. "If I recall correctly, you were assigned to review some troops over in Wales. We have not heard hide nor tail of you since."

"That is because you could not bear to write to me, knowing full well I should be out of supply of dignified company," he continued petulantly, gratefully accepting the proffered brandy.

"You consider yourself dignified?" Fitzwilliam asked smiling.

"Compared to the regulars, yes, I do," he answered with a haughty sniff. "I see what marriage has brought you, cousin. Two against one! 'Tis no fair at all."

"You bring it upon yourself," Fitzwilliam replied.

"How so? A cheerful, sociable chap such as myself? I daresay I fair better than the bitter, taciturn Darcy, am I right, Mrs. Darcy?" He asked, hoping she would support him. The hint of anger flashing in his temperamental cousin was another boon to his stay.

Elizabeth laughed. "In some respects. You delight on acquaintance, but grate later on."

He knew she was teasing him and had pacified her husband, but he was not done with his fun yet.

"Mrs. Darcy, you shall tear all my pride into ribbons. As if lower lads trying to overturn my command were not terror enough, I shall be attacked on all sides! Why did I come back to visit, why?" He asked dramatically.

"Because you are not content until someone pities you," Darcy answered good-naturedly.

Elizabeth laughed, but the Colonel remained grave. "But do I not have a reason? The Earl of Matlock would flay me alive and Mother simply dotes on Edward, my brother, with not a care for my well-being. Thus, I am left to drift alone in this heartless world, to make a fortune or perish at the hands of the enemy!"

Elizabeth's laughter rang about the room and Richard was much put out that his grand scheme was not believed.

"What lies have you been feeding her, Darcy?" He asked sourly as he downed his brandy.

"None. She met your parents at our wedding," Darcy replied happily, enjoying the transformation on his cousin's face.

"Dash it all! And here I was hoping to have at least someone in this family understand what pain I go through."

"Colonel, your father is such an even-minded man that no one would be persuaded he could raise a hand against anyone," Elizabeth responded sincerely.

"It is the quiet ones," he countered. "You should always be wary of the quiet ones."

"That was a very impressive performance, Richard," Darcy interjected. "But I am afraid my wife is too clever to fall for your tricks."

Richard muttered and helped himself to more brandy. "I nearly had Edward's fiancée over on my side, but he finally became conscious that there was more in the room than just her face. I am happy for him. He found a quiet, modest girl who seems fairly sensible. Her name is Miss Maybel Cordery. They met during the last Season and continued their acquaintance throughout the summer."

"I am very happy for him," Darcy replied heartily. "When did they announce the engagement?"

"Only a few weeks ago. I am sure Mother sent you a nice long letter about it."

"And what of you, Colonel. No engagements for you?" Elizabeth asked teasingly.

"I have been in a camp in Wales, madam," he answered, half-jesting. "It shall take another month for the stench and mannerisms to wear off before I could even hope of joining any of the marriageable ladies."

Elizabeth laughed and hid a yawn. After enjoying a few more minutes of banter, she excused herself for the evening. Darcy looked up in concern as Elizabeth usually enjoyed staying up with guests.

"Are you well?" He asked, standing and escorting her to the door.

"I am fine, just a bit tired. I am unused to town," she replied with a smile. "Besides, I am sure you would enjoy some time with your cousin."

"Are you sure?" He questioned, his concern not abated.

"Perfectly," she answered, willing herself not to get angry at his obvious worry. She knew he only looked out for her, as much as she disliked being questioned. "You will not keep my husband up all night, will you Colonel?"

Richard laughed. "I do not believe I could even if I tried," he called, his eyes alluding to earlier that evening.

Darcy blushed and Elizabeth felt herself color as well. "Very well. Will you join us for supper tomorrow?"

His face clouded. "I am engaged tomorrow with some of the higher officers, but I am free the day after."

She smiled. "We shall expect you then. Good night."

They both bade her good night and Darcy promised to retire within the next half hour. Once the door shut, he returned to his cousin.

"She is a treasure, Darcy," Richard stated. "Her wit is more than I remember."

Darcy smiled. "I am indeed fortunate. Georgiana and the household no less so."

Richard nodded. "I only hope I receive the same felicity."

"You will, Richard, in time. You are young and amiable yet. Consider I had not that quality."

"True, and it is a very needed quality. Not all the Miss Elizabeth's in the world end up to be so understanding," he replied, but continued after a pause. "Will you be journeying to Kent for Easter?"

"We have not been invited, though Georgiana stayed for a month in autumn."

"Poor girl. How did she fare?"

"Well enough, though Lord Rocheford was there while she was," he answered, his face turning into a glower.

"Good God. He did not..." Fitzwilliam cried out in alarm, his eyes widening as he set down his drink.

"No! No, thank Heavens no, but we believe there was some sort of understanding, at least on her part. Apparently he is to be engaged to our cousin Anne."

"Anne?" Richard asked in surprise, clanking his glass on the table. "I am happy for her, do not doubt that, but what man would marry her?"

"From what Lady Catherine informed Georgiana, his fortune is only guaranteed by this marriage. No doubt it was grandly orchestrated by our beloved aunt."

"Dear Lord. Easter will be positively miserable," the Colonel moaned into his hands.

"Cheer up. Maybe you can be sent back to Wales," Darcy replied, raising his glass to hide his smirk.

His cousin shot him a murderous glare.

* * *

Elizabeth wandered through the hallways of their London home. She still had a few hours before the Colonel was to arrive for dinner and could not find any occupation to amuse her. Her hands were still sore from practicing and she had just finished her book. The library at this house was not as full and no book had caught her interest anyway. Her husband stoutly refused to let her go on walks about town by herself and was currently trapped in business. Some important news from his latest ship had arrived shortly after luncheon and he begged forgiveness for not returning until supper.

Elizabeth sighed. She felt utterly useless. Her Aunt Gardiner had been called on that morning and there was no other diversion left that would not aggravate her hands. Therefore, she resorted to wandering. She thought back to the play they had visited the night before and smiled. It had been delightful. If only the days in town could be as interesting as the nights.

She had reached the back end of the house and a delicious aroma accosted her. Her stomach gave a sudden quease, before kindly relenting. The incoming nausea she was beginning to fear eased and let her enjoy the delectable smells. It had a habit of turning traitorously in the middle of meals. Pushing open the door, she was startled as she beheld the bustling kitchen.

Mrs. Abery, the head cook who reigned in the London house, was a woman to be reckoned with. She ruled the kitchen with a stiff hand and had the muscle to follow through with any punishment. Although moderately understanding and earnestly loving to offer her advice to anyone with his or her problems, she tolerated no nonsense in her kitchen. At the moment Elizabeth looked in, the lady in question was scolding a lad for knocking over several large pans in his effort to remove the garbage. One never wished to cross this lady, especially on a day when guests were coming.

"How often must I tell you to watch where yer going? This isn't some fancy tavern that you can enter at yer pleasure! See to it you right yer carelessness or ye'll be finding a new job!" The on-edge cook bellowed to a scrawny youth.

Nodding meekly, the lad quickly picked up the dropped articles and fled, thankfully not upsetting anything on his way out. Elizabeth watched, slightly bemused, as the cook huffily turned back to the chicken that needed more seasoning. As she turned, she caught sight of the mistress standing uncertainly in the doorway. Mrs. Abery hurriedly wiped her hands on her over-size apron and tucked back some strands of hair that had escaped during her labor.

"What can I do for you, Ma'am?" She asked politely, ducking into a low curtsey as she approached her.

"Oh, I was just wandering and I had not been back here before. It smelled so wonderful," Elizabeth added as a sort of explanation.

The cook beamed with pleasure. "Just for your dinner tonight, Ma'am. I am glad you approve. I was beginning to be afraid you found something amiss with my cooking," Mrs. Abery replied, unsuccessfully hiding her true concern.

"Oh, no! I hope I have not given you that impression. Your cooking has always been delicious," Elizabeth answered earnestly, trying to assure the lady.

"Then I am glad. I had just wondered as the trays have been sent back untouched," Mrs. Abery continued, letting the sentence dangle.

"I am very sorry; I have not been well. I did not mean to give offense. I have had difficulty eating in the mornings," Elizabeth replied sheepishly.

"Oh! I see," Mrs. Abery stated speculatively, eyeing her mistress up and down. "Very well, then. So long as you enjoy your meals. Mr. Abery assured me it was not so, but I was not sure."

Elizabeth smiled weakly, knowing that her traitorous stomach was now beginning to quench itself unmercifully.

"I shall look forward to supper and leave you to your work, then," came her tight-lipped reply.

"As you wish," Mrs. Abery answered with a curtsey. She returned to her station as soon as her mistress left and decided the chicken needed no more seasoning after all.

* * *

_Well, there you are! _

_I do not have much to say. Shocking, isn't it? I'm halfway through the next chapter, so hopefully (crosses fingers) the wait won't be too long. I am glad so many people are enjoying this story and I truly appreciate all the reviews. Thanks for all your support!_

_Kudos to Mlle. Skywalker, for another excellent job betaing. You guys don't know how much you owe her. :)_

_One last bit, and then I promise I'm done. I have left of the "Previously" section in this chapter. Let me know if you like me to add it as a permanent thing, or not. _

_Thank you all, and review! (What? We all shamelessly plug for them:) )_


	15. Revelations

_Discalimer: I do not own anything belonging to the wonderful Jane Austen. Anything you do not recognize from Pride and Prejudice is my own creation._

_A/N: Apologies and excuses will be after the chapter. _

_Firstly: I would highly recommend re-reading the previous chapter, or at least the last scene of that chapter, in order to help with continuity. No, this is not a cheap ploy to bump up my 'hit' counter and massage my ego._

_Secondly: A great debate concerning Anglicanism has had both my head and my beta's head spinning. This is due to whether the clergymen should be called a rector, vicar, parson, pastor, curate, etc... From what I have gathered, the main distinction between them is their salary, but it is much too confusing for me to fully understand. I will pick a few and use them interchangeable and chalk it up to poetic license. However, if anyone has better knowledge on this, your help would be appreciated. I am trying to keep this as historically accurate as possible. Also, the Easter service is a mesh of what I've read and witnessed in Catholic and Luthern services. Again, I am no expert, so corrections are appreciated. Thank goodness for a poetic license!_

**Revelations**

The fire at the head of the room cast a comforting glow about the small parlor where they had retreated after supper. Elizabeth shifted on the chaise arranged close to the fire, wrapping her scarlet and gold shawl closer around herself. Her husband's arm encircled her waist, sharing the added warmth the shawl provided. She rested her head on his chest, right near his shoulder, as her own arm found his waist. His grip drew her closer, her curls tickling his chin. They sat in companionable silence, relishing their last day of solitude before Georgiana and Kitty joined them.

"It has been quite a while since we have been at Pemberley," Elizabeth mused.

"Yes," he answered softly, as if afraid to break the intimacy of the moment.

"You miss it," she stated.

"Yes," he replied, impulsively adding, "Do you?"

Elizabeth tilted her head up to find his eyes and gave him a sincere smile. "I do."

She settled back against him, but not before he stole a kiss from her. The fire crackled cheerfully, adding to the soothing atmosphere. Elizabeth let out a contented sigh.

"I am eager to see Pemberley in spring, with everything coming to life again."

"I will take you on some of the best walks when spring arrives, however I am afraid I will be very much occupied by the business of the estate initially. It will be a miracle if Davies lets me breathe the first week."

Elizabeth chuckled softly. "We shall bear the loss of your company the best we can. It might be a horribly arduous journey, but I am sure we shall manage somehow."

"Your wit knows no bounds, Elizabeth."

"But you know you would not have it any other way," she smirked up at him, offsetting the stern countenance he had adopted.

"Indeed, I would not. Life would be insufferably dull, even more so now that I have been exposed to your liveliness."

"So you see, a melancholy disposition does not suit you at all."

"I believe our early acquaintance taught me that much." Although he was jesting, Elizabeth could detect the latent bitterness.

"Have you so quickly forgotten what I just said? Melancholy does not suit you and brooding on the unhappy past does no one good. We are together now, and there is no reason for discontent."

He could not help but smile at his wife's firm insistence. "Indeed, Elizabeth, what would I have done without you?"

"Carried on tolerably, I suppose, unless you wish me to imagine the worst fate for you," she challenged, lifting her brow at him. "In that case, you would have eventually succumbed to Miss Bingley's wiles and your fortune half spent."

"Then I am very glad you agreed to be my wife," he replied sincerely, before continuing in their mischievous vein. "But what of you? What man would have caught your fancy? Although I must confess, I do not think I could have lived knowing you were the wife of some other gentleman."

Elizabeth reflected a moment and thought better of mentioning Kit. "I have always said that only the deepest love would induce me into matrimony, but perhaps I would have been persuaded had Mr. Collins had a cousin."

"You imp!" He cried with a large grin, drawing her closer and enacting a pleasing punishment.

* * *

"Kitty, it will be right over there. We will not miss it, because I asked the coachman to stop before we reach it," Georgiana stated calmly as they meandered down the path toward Pemberley.

"But there is nothing but trees, Georgiana," Kitty complained, her sour expression firmly etched upon her features.

"Give it a few minutes more. Then you shall see it," she replied with admirable patience.

True enough, a parting of the trees and the halt of the carriage signaled the emergence of Pemberley in all her glory. The lake glittered brightly in the midday sun and was reflected off the many windows. Everyone in the carriage held their breath as they took in Pemberley's grandeur.

Amid Kitty's cries of rapture, Fitzwilliam tapped on the side of the coach with his walking stick to alert the driver to move forward. With a jerk, the carriage moved forward, and the spectacular view was hidden once more by dense forest.

"How have I never seen it before? It is truly glorious. Oh, I wish I had the talent to paint it, but I challenge any artist to capture its true beauty," Kitty exclaimed.

"Many have tried," Fitzwilliam answered. "You can see their attempts in the art gallery. Even Georgiana tried at one point."

Kitty turned to face her friend with surprise and curiosity, but Georgiana's red face stared resolutely at her brother.

"Brother, I was only seven!" She replied, affronted.

"But it did indeed look like a house," he teased, trying to ease her embarrassment.

Kitty rose to her friend's defense. "I am sure it was simply marvelous. You must show it to me, Georgiana. I should love to see some of your earlier work. Perhaps it will help me develop my own talents."

"Perhaps, Kitty, but remember, mine came from years of instruction and extra lessons."

The carriage soon rolled to a halt in front of the steps and they all filed out. Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds waited joyfully inside the entrance hall, and a bevy of maids were hovering nearby. All smiles, the company entered and exchanged greetings. The maids were released to divest them of all their traveling gear.

"I hope you have brought your appetites. Mrs. Cox has outdone herself for dinner," Mrs. Reynolds was saying.

"Oh, I cannot wait!" Kitty exclaimed rather loudly, as her hunger had been growing ever since Lambton.

"Should I have some water drawn for baths, sir?" Mr. Reynolds asked as the maids headed up the stairs with their goods.

"Yes, please. I believe we are all in need of one," Fitzwilliam replied, noticing Elizabeth grab her head. "Are you well?"

"Beg pardon? Oh, yes. No, I am fine. I think I ought to rest for a bit," Elizabeth mumbled, accepting his proffered arm and heading for the stairs.

"Brother," Georgiana called. "Shall you and I have our tour of the grounds after dinner?"

Fitzwilliam immediately looked at Elizabeth and Georgiana blushed profusely.

"Oh! I-I am sorry, Elizabeth. I-If you rather w-we did not..."

"No, no, Georgiana, do not be silly. I would not wish to get in the way of tradition and you know I will heartily avoid any horses. Your brother may have gotten me on one at Netherfield, but it is a pursuit in which a little goes a very long way."

"W-we could take the carriage if you prefer."

"No. Kitty and I shall amuse ourselves plenty," Elizabeth replied with a smile, longing for her bed upstairs. "It is only fair that you get a chance to be with your brother."

"Are you sure?" Her husband asked with concern.

"Perfectly," she answered evenly, giving them both a sincere smile.

Georgiana smiled back hesitantly before Kitty dragged her up the stairs. Kitty was eager to be back and see her room. Elizabeth smiled after them, and, leaning on her husband's arm, walked the familiar path toward their rooms.

* * *

The winter air still lingered in the foyer as they bundled to visit the parsonage. It was one of their first visits since returning to Pemberley and most of them were looking forward to it. Kitty, however, was less than thrilled, but Elizabeth hoped the restraint she was showing in the carriage would last throughout the meeting. Even Georgiana was happy to attend as the discussions interested her and she had no reason to fear any attachment with Mr. Foxten. He was a gentleman in all aspects of the word, but she knew she had no danger from that quarter.

As they passed under the watchful eye of regimented trees, the parsonage rose before them. Unlike the church, it was a recent structure, having been constructed nearly a decade before due to a fire in the previous abode. The present model was a modest two-floor building with wide bay windows gracing the lower level. Bright whitewashed walls gave the impression of hospitality and the dark green shutters fluttered merrily in the bitter breeze. Kitty clapped her hands together when she saw it.

"Oh, it's such a charming place, don't you think? All it needs is a wide porch and it would be just perfect," she exclaimed.

Georgiana smiled and agreed while Elizabeth tried to control her laughter. The carriage rolled to a stop and they descended. A manservant rushed forward to help them with their traveling things and Mr. Foxten dutifully ushered them into his parlor.

"How good of you all to come," he began pleasantly. "I must say it is a very agreeable surprise. I had not expected you all until church."

"We decided that we had sorely neglected you for quite some time, Mr. Foxten. What sort of patrons neglect their parson?" Elizabeth began as they settled into the room.

He laughed easily. "Very busy ones, Ma'am."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Then you must tell us all that has happened while we have been away. Have you found the house to your liking?"

"It is more than I had hoped, Ma'am. I can find no fault with it. I have only made minor adjustments as Mr. Kipling and I have different tastes, but that is all," he replied as his servant entered with tea. "Mr. Kipling did sent me a letter a few weeks back. He greatly appreciates being back with his family and old friends. He did ask me to send on his regards to you and your family and that he was thinking of you all this past holiday season."

"That is very kind of him. Perhaps you would be able to convey our regards to him. Or, better yet, would you still have his address? I should like to send him a letter myself," Elizabeth answered.

"Of course. I could send for it now, or have it fetched before you leave."

"Do not trouble yourself now, we have just been settled," Elizabeth stated. "Are you quite sure you are pleased with the parsonage?"

"Yes, do not hesitate to inform us if anything is amiss," Darcy offered warmly. "Personally, I was concerned about the fireplace."

"Well, it has not caused any problems as yet. Mrs. Hyson has had no reason to complain this winter, at least."

"You know," Kitty began as Elizabeth held her breath. "I truly think a porch would make the house more welcoming, don't you agree? The pastor's house should be the most welcoming one in the neighborhood. I remember in Hertfordshire that Mr. Westen's house was so frightening that I always dreaded passing it."

"I do agree with you, Miss Bennet, but that is the only fallacy with this place. It lacks a woman's touch to make it a true home, does it not, Darcy?" Foxten answered.

"A house is not a home until then. I declare Pemberley would not be half so decent had my sister or wife not been there to make it presentable," he replied, earning a laugh from the ladies.

"Then perhaps Miss Bennet and the other ladies would be so kind as to lend their expertise to my humble home," Mr. Foxten proposed warmly. His eyes were trained on Kitty and he did not see Elizabeth's raised brow to her husband.

Kitty, unaware of his attention, laughed. "You flatter us, Mr. Foxten, but you will soon find that Georgiana has far better taste than I do. I beg you entreat her for a centerpiece for any gathering you have as I have never seen anyone with her genius."

"Kitty!" Georgiana exclaimed with a slight blush. "You are much too modest. You forget what you did to the spring parlor."

Comprehension slowly dawned on Kitty's face and she laughed again. "Oh, Georgiana! All I did was move the furniture a bit. It was simply too crowded."

"But I cannot remember the room ever looking half so well," Georgiana insisted.

By now the topic had ended its course and had provided ample time for someone to prepare a new subject. Elizabeth swiftly carried on the conversation as a means of redirecting Mr. Foxten's attentions.

"I trust the parish is still doing well," Elizabeth asked. "I have not heard of anyone new within the community being added to the charity list."

"No, Ma'am. We have enjoyed remarkable good fortune in that respect," Mr. Foxten answered, torn between reluctance at withdrawing his focus from Kitty and duty toward his patrons.

"I am very glad to hear this."

"Is the treasury holding?" Darcy questioned, helping himself to another scone.

"Very well, sir. The people were most generous at Christmastide so I believe we are in the perfect state. Would you like me to visit at some point so we can review the numbers?"

"Whenever it is convenient for you. I trust that you are an honorable man."

"May I have the privilege to call on Wednesday? I can bring my Easter sermon along as well."

"That sounds perfect. Wednesday it is."

The visit moved onto parish matters that Kitty found more interesting than she previously thought. It was a sure way of getting honest gossip on the people in the village. Now she would not let the apothecary's wife's sneering looks bother her since she now possessed the knowledge that the apothecary was not quite so honorable. She also had the pleasure of a fundamental life lesson: few people were as religious as they would like to appear.

* * *

Elizabeth rose from her bath, thankful that the crick in her neck was finally gone. Clad in her shift, she toweled her long hair dry and observed her maid bustling about the room.

"Do you like that gown for today, ma'am?" Maggie asked as she finished hanging some freshly laundered gowns. "If not, the other maids sent up a whole new batch of washing."

Elizabeth looked over at the light yellow fabric sprayed with clusters of green. "This shall be fine, thank you Maggie."

The maid bowed her head. "The Epworth's returned from their trip to Wales while you were in Hertfordshire."

"Oh. Who are they?" Elizabeth asked as the she sat down and pulled on her stockings.

"They own a fairly large part of Derbyshire, ma'am. They live about six miles away from Kympton, where the other living is," Maggie called over her shoulder.

"Why do they not own that living?"

"I do not know... I believe there was some ancient feud centuries ago and it was settled then. Mistress Georgiana would know better than I," Maggie answered, coming over and helping Elizabeth with her petticoat and stays.

"I shall have to remember to ask her," Elizabeth mused.

Elizabeth stared out the window at the glimmering lake while Maggie struggled with the stays behind her. She knew Maggie did not usually have much trouble.

"Your stays are not fitting right, ma'am," Maggie stated.

"They are an old pair. Perhaps they have gotten smaller in the wash," Elizabeth offered, trying to turn her head around to see.

"But the pair I used yesterday, ma'am, were newer and gave me the same trouble. You have not been eating much," Maggie concluded matter-of-factly, her hands falling still with dawning comprehension.

"My stomach has been disagreeing with me, yes," Elizabeth replied defensively. "But then my stays should not be that much trouble."

"Ma'am, if it's not to bold of me to say," Maggie began timidly, waiting for Elizabeth's sign to continue.

"You know I have no objection to hearing whatever you wish to say, Maggie," Elizabeth replied kindly, giving the girl a welcoming smile.

Maggie looked around as if to be certain they were entirely alone. Leaning forward, her face bright red, she whispered so softly that Elizabeth barely heard her.

"Ma'am... H-have you... you b-b-been having... having your cycles?" She finished in a rush, her face flushing, if possible, darker.

Elizabeth started forward, a blush adorning her features as well. Her lips instantly began to negate to Maggie's claim, but something held her back. As she thought on the matter, she realized that her maid's assumption was entirely correct. She sat down heavily in the chair wondering how she could have missed the signs. Her hand unconsciously went to her stomach and her eyes reached her maid's.

"I am with child?" She questioned in disbelief, staring at Maggie in wonderment.

"I-I believe s-so, ma'am," Maggie replied, still unsteady after her bold statement. "Some of the staff have also been suspicious."

Elizabeth blushed harder. "They knew? Lord, I am such a fool."

"No, ma'am! Not at all! Many ladies fail to realize they are with child at first, but many of the staff have seen it with their own families. Some, like Mrs. Reynolds, remember Mistress Anne..."

Elizabeth nodded slowly, trying to come to terms with the news. It was wonderful and frightening at the same time. To think she had not realized herself! Elizabeth shook her head and a disbelieving smile graced her lips.

"I am with child," she whispered happily, before repeating louder. "I am with child!"

Maggie grinned and was startled when Elizabeth clasped her in a hug. Her joy was infectious.

"I am with child!" She cried, her face beaming with joy. "Fitzwilliam will be thrilled."

"I am sure he will, ma'am," Maggie replied, her grin still spreading over her face. The pair embraced again before Elizabeth finally consented to finish dressing. She turned around obediently with obvious glee and Maggie proceeded to loosen the strings, a cheerful grin permanently fixed on her face.

* * *

"Have you seen Mrs. Darcy this afternoon, Reynolds?" Darcy inquired after his butler as he passed him in the hallway. "The ladies say she decided on a stroll about the house after dinner instead of retiring to the drawing room."

"I am sorry, sir, but I have not seen her. Perhaps you should check the library?" He offered as he shifted the pile of books in his arms. "These are for Miss Georgiana's rooms, sir," he replied to his master's look.

Fitzwilliam nodded. "Thank you, Reynolds."

Mr. Reynolds bowed and continued toward the private quarters. Darcy entered the library but was met with an empty grate and drawn curtains. Momentarily lost as to where she could be, he happened upon her personal maid, Maggie.

"Maggie," he called. The woman quickly bobbed a curtsy and was all polite attention. "Have you seen your mistress this evening? I cannot seem to find her."

Maggie gave a small smile. "I believe she wished to see the gallery, sir."

Relief and puzzlement merged on Darcy's face as he graciously thanked her for her assistance. He set off through the labyrinth of corridors toward the gallery. He wondered at her being there, as he knew she had no particular love of art. She appreciated a beautiful painting as much as anyone and enjoyed viewing Georgiana and Kitty's work, but she was not one to seek pleasure viewing an endless array of pictures.

Finally reaching the long gallery, he beheld the lone figure at the far end of the hall. The early sunset still lingered in the room, unwilling to sink below the horizon. He crept quietly toward her, hoping to preserve the serene picture before him as long as possible. As he neared, he saw that one end of her shawl had fallen and trailed on the floor like an unclasped cape. She was pursuing a large painting; her head tilted in thought, as one finger idly twirled a loose curl on her neck. His boots resounded loudly on the echoing walls and she turned her head slightly to look at him. Her face broke out in a grin that transferred to his as well, before returning to her portrait.

"You have a remarkable talent for hiding," he whispered into her ear as he came up behind her.

"I was not hiding," she replied gently, turning around to face him.

"But I could not find you and knew not where you were," he countered gently, folding his arms around her as his mouth found its way to her ear. "I cannot remember when you have been in the gallery."

"Georgiana and Kitty were out for a ride," she answered calmly, noticing her shawl for the first time. She disentangled herself from his arms and bent down to rescue the forest green shawl before securing it once again. "I fancied a stroll and found myself here. You have some remarkable paintings."

"_We_ have some remarkable paintings," he teased.

Elizabeth smiled and turned back toward the painting she had been looking at.

"It was painted when I was about five," Fitzwilliam whispered, answering the question he knew she was about to ask. He stood behind her and this time she gratefully sank back against his chest. The chill in the hallway proved greater than they had imagined.

"You were quite the adorable child," Elizabeth stated honestly, before looking up at him with her mischievous smirk. "Whatever happened?"

Her eyes glittered from her cheekiness though his eyes burned with something deeper. "I met you and you completely undid me."

She blushed prettily from his dual meaning and determinedly turned away from him, though still within his embrace. Darcy smiled to himself. It gave him a sense of pride that he could still make his bride blush.

"Have you ever wondered what our child will look like, Fitzwilliam?" She asked suddenly, her face hidden from him as he rested his chin on her curls.

"I would hope he would inherit your eyes," he answered, though he remained perplexed. "But just one child?"

"As yet," she replied calmly.

It took a moment for her words to penetrate his deeper comprehension. "As yet?" He repeated, his heart beginning to beat faster.

"Yes," she stated slowly, clasping his one hand in hers and guiding it to rest on her stomach. "Until a doctor says otherwise, as yet, I know of only one."

Darcy's mind worked in jerks and spasms as it analyzed this new information. Spinning Elizabeth around, he caught her shy, yet brazen, look. "Elizabeth, are you... are you with... with child?" He exclaimed incredulously.

She smiled up at him. "Yes."

The joy that suffused his face was indescribable. He caught Elizabeth in his arms and spun her around before planting her firmly on the ground with a searing kiss.

"Elizabeth! This is wonderful! When?" He asked hurriedly, his incandescent joy forcing the chill to retreat.

"I-I know not. By August, we believe," she replied, continuing when she saw his questioning look. "Maggie and I. We only figured it out a today. I-I had barely allowed myself to suspect it for some time. It was quite a shock to me as well. At any rate, it is proper to wait three months before making any announcement... in case the child does not come."

Fitzwilliam squeezed her shoulder in reassurance before cupping her face in his hands. "You know not how happy this news has made me," he stated, his fingers caressing her cheeks.

She merely smiled back at him. "I believe I can imagine."

"So that is why you have traveled down here, have you not? To think of what our child will be?" He asked accurately.

Elizabeth blushed and assented. "Of course, I do not have any pictures from my youth, but I do remember that I was a bit wild. I hope, for our sakes, our child has a much more manageable temper."

"Yes, docility was never much in your nature, was it," he teased as she returned once more to the picture.

"Your mother was beautiful," she answered instead, deciding to ignore his previous statement.

"She was," he agreed softly. "Georgiana takes after my father's family and I take after my mother's. I think this was part of the reason my name is her surname and why Lady Catherine strongly entertained ideas of my union to Anne."

Elizabeth smiled. "Jane and Lydia take after my mother, though Jane was blessed with some sense. The rest of us take after Papa. I think that is partly why I became his favorite."

"I am sure your sense and wit had nothing to do with it," he replied dryly, receiving another grin in return.

"No, nothing at all."

* * *

"Oh, Elizabeth! This is wonderful!"

"I will be an aunt again!"

"When?"

"Do you have any names yet?"

Such were Georgiana's and Kitty's reactions when the good news was shared that evening. Elizabeth and Darcy sat and beamed while they waited for their sisters to calm down.

"As far as we know, the child shall come in July or August. I have yet to see the doctor," Elizabeth replied serenely.

"Any names?" Kitty asked eagerly.

"No, not yet. We only found out today. You shall have to give us some time," Elizabeth laughed.

"Oh. I always thought Lorena was a very pretty name," Kitty offered. "It was from that novel I was reading. Is it not exotic?"

"But what if it is a boy?" Elizabeth countered.

"Well, I am sure one of my brother's names shall suffice," Georgiana teased her brother in turn, earning a surprised look.

"Perhaps we shall take one of yours, Georgiana."

"For a son! My poor nephew," she replied sadly.

Everyone laughed at Georgiana's antics. Nothing could dim their spirits that night.

"Georgiana," Elizabeth asked after they had settled down with their tea. "Maggie informed me that the... the... Oh! The Epworths have returned. They are good friends of yours, are they not?"

"Oh, yes! My brother has not mentioned them to you?" She questioned, a bit puzzled by this.

Fitzwilliam had the grace to look almost sheepish. "I received their card when we arrived, but I have not had to opportunity to give them much thought."

Georgiana smiled. "That is for the better then. Fitzwilliam does not particularly care for them and would certainly do them an injustice."

"Georgiana! They are very good friends of ours," he emphatically cried.

"But you have not kept up a correspondence with them, brother," Georgiana countered expertly, seeing her brother unable to offer up an excuse. "He does not think very highly of Mr. Epworth."

"The father?" Elizabeth questioned.

"No, no! Mr. Nathaniel Epworth. He is a few years younger than Fitzwilliam. Their father died shortly after our mother did," Georgiana stated softly.

"Is he handsome?" Kitty asked with open curiosity.

Georgiana laughed. "I daresay he is handsome. Many a girl has found him so."

"What does he look like?"

"I have not seen him for the past two years. He has probably changed since then."

"But what do you remember?"

"Well, his mother is from Wales and they both have her red hair."

"Both? He has a brother?" Kitty's glee was barely contained in her expression.

"No. His sister, Amelia. She is about four years my senior. They have another sister, but she does not live with them."

"Is she married?"

Here Georgiana hesitated. "No, she is not."

"Then why does she not live with them? They must be rich so she has no occasion to work."

"Well... S-she... she... she became a nun."

The entire party froze.

"A nun?" Kitty asked, thoroughly confused. "But why? I though it was only the Irish that were Catholic."

"Well, you see, she had always been a very religious child. Then she caught scarlet fever when she was fifteen, I believe. No one could do anything for her, but a poor traveling man came one night and begged for a place to stay. They let him stay and he learned that a child, Delilah, was ill. Nothing was working and her mother was desperate. The doctor was sure she would perish. So, they let him visit her and he said some prayers over her in Latin. Her fever turned that night."

"So he made her turn into a nun?"

"No. Not directly, anyway. After that, they found out he was a priest and threw him out early the next morning. Delilah was convinced he had healed her and secretly received instruction from a Catholic priest who lived a few villages over. Her and her friend went and pretended to stay at a relative's house, who also turned out to be Catholic."

"I imagine that was quite the scandal when her parents found out," Elizabeth stated in awe.

"Well, they did not find out until after her father passed away. Mrs. Epworth caught Delilah saying Latin prayers over him. It was horrid. She and her friend ran off to the relative's house and the lady arranged their passage to Spain. The last I heard from Amelia, they were set up in a Carmelite convent and she went by the name of Epifania. She still writes from time to time and wrote a very moving letter when their mother died."

"Mrs. Epworth is dead?" Fitzwilliam exclaimed in surprise.

"Did I not tell you? I am sure I did," Georgiana responded, looking earnest, yet stricken.

"If you did, I have forgotten. When did this happen?"

"A little over a month ago. Amelia wrote me when it happened. Apparently, Mrs. Epworth caught ill on the journey home. She did not live past the week. Amelia thought she was happy to be reunited so quickly with her sister."

"I wish I had known. I would have paid more attention to their card. We ought to offer our condolences," Fitzwilliam mused.

"You and I could ride over tomorrow. We can invite them over for dinner on Sunday with Mr. Foxten, unless they would prefer to just meet the family. However, they should not be introduced to Elizabeth and Kitty right away. It would not seem genuine for Elizabeth to come with us to offer condolences when she did not even know their mother."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at Georgiana's announcement. The girl was often so quiet that Elizabeth would forget what a sensible head she had on her shoulders.

"Wouldn't they get offended?" Kitty asked.

"I know Amelia would prefer friends first. She is not very tolerant of false formality and concern. I am confident she would prefer it this way. If not, all the blame can rest with me."

Elizabeth smiled. "As you know them best, we shall all defer the decisions to you."

Georgiana was pleased and alarmed by this pronouncement. Being back at Pemberley had animated her more than anything had since they left the place. Elizabeth was pleased that Georgiana could be happy and content, but she could not help seeing that tinge of sadness grace her when no one was watching. It was the same expression she had seen on Jane that fateful time when they were all in doubt of Bingley's sentiments. Elizabeth knew how much this exertion by Georgiana ought to be commended, but she knew not how. Whenever she had been caught with a solemn expression, Georgiana would smile and say she was well. Elizabeth guessed that she wished to carry her burden on alone after having divulged it to her already.

They finished the evening with cheerful duets. Elizabeth marveled at how a change of scene could do so much. Away from Hertfordshire, Kitty willingly complied with domestic tasks and was now embroidering a deep maroon blanket, which she had not finished for Beth. Fitzwilliam relaxed in the sanctuary of his own home and was more calm and content than he had been. Elizabeth herself felt the calming nature of home. It was a curious thought, seeing as how for so long a time, the boisterous walls of Longbourn had been her abode.

Her hand drifted to her stomach as it swelled with breath for her song. She looked up and smiled at her husband. The truth of her situation struck more forcibly than ever.

She was home.

* * *

It was Kitty who spied Mr. Foxten trotting up the lane. The ladies had chosen that morning to work on their little garden. Weeds danced around Diana's statue and Kitty had spent the greater part of the morning pleading with Elizabeth to let them stay.

"It is so picturesque! At least let me sketch in first and then you can do what you will. They look like wood nymphs, do they not?" She had cried.

Georgiana and Elizabeth eventually gave in to her insistence, mainly to quell her griping and mutiny should they disoblige her. They toiled for a great while and had dug up most of the flowerbeds. One of the beds was found to contain a multitude of bulbs, much to the joy of the garden party. It was one less bed that would require extensive attention.

The March weather was calm and beginning to become warm. A neat row of spencers lined the edge of the garden as the exertion compensated for their absence. It was in this state of disarray that Kitty, having taken a break and ambled through the neighboring paths, had seen their visitor. She came back in a most anxious state, hastily wiping her hands and donning her spencer.

"Quick! Quick!" She cried, streaking dirt across her face as she hurriedly retied her bonnet. "I saw Mr. Foxten on the path and I am sure he means to stay for luncheon. We must hurry and get ready!"

Elizabeth let her trowel sink into the soft earth and eyed her sister amusedly. "I did not know you cared so much for Mr. Foxten's good opinion, Kitty."

Kitty instantly puffed up in righteous dignity. "_I_ do not care for _his_ personal opinion, but he is the parson, and they are the most wicked gossips."

"Kitty!" Georgiana exclaimed, her trowel dropping in surprise. "Mr. Foxten is no such man, I am sure. He is very kind hearted and sincere."

In an effort to hide her mortification, Kitty became rude. "Perhaps I am not the one courting Mr. Foxten's particular opinion," she sneered.

With a turn of her heel, Kitty vanished down the lane. Georgiana looked stricken, but covered it up with a fair degree of composure.

Elizabeth took pity on her as they cleaned up what remained in the garden. Georgiana bore it well, but was quieter than usual as they trudged back up the walk. A few of the gardeners bowed as they passed, many of them rising from turning up the ground or trimming the hedges. They remained encased in silence until they were about to part in the main hallway.

"Georgiana," Elizabeth began softly. "You must not take her words to heart. I am sure she did not mean them."

Georgiana looked up at her with a small smile that was meant to be comforting. "I am as yet unused to having sisters."

She turned down the hallway and entered her room. Elizabeth sighed and grasped the handle to her own apartments. She was surprised to hear a deep voice calling to her maid. Perplexed, she entered her rooms and beheld her husband standing just inside the communicating door. He smiled when he saw her.

"I was just informing Maggie that we have a guest for luncheon. He was so late arriving, that I feared she did not know."

Elizabeth smiled back. "Kitty saw him arrive. You are speaking of Mr. Foxten?"

He let out a small laugh. "Yes, I am."

The door shut with a soft thud as he disappeared. Maggie, it seemed, had not been in possession of this information and was rifling through her mistress' closet for a better gown to wear. Elizabeth calmly undid as many buttons of her gown as she could and washed the dirt off her hands and fingers. By the time she had finished, an elegant gown of striped muslin laid waiting for her. She was thankful that her condition allowed her to wear her stays looser than usual. However, it was imperative for her to retain the standard lace cap thought proper on married ladies. She despised the contraption, and as her husband seconded her opinion, she gladly abstained from wearing it when it was just the family.

Once the dreaded lace was sufficiently covering her head, her maid ushered her out of the room. Elizabeth waited for her husband and admired the way the sun fell through the window in the alcove. She had moved closer to the stairs to try to discern a particular shadow when she saw both Georgiana and Kitty walking together down the hall. Her surprise was acute, especially when she saw they were both smiling.

Georgiana saw her first and her smile grew wider. Kitty, however, looked a bit mortified. Taking pity on her friend, Georgiana restored her virtue in the eyes of her sister.

"Kitty apologized most graciously. She had not known her words would affect me so acutely and was heartily sorry for it. She knows of my troubles, now."

Kitty's face was a myriad of shame and hopefulness. Elizabeth smiled and praised her, giving Kitty the encouragement she knew she was craving. She waved them on down the stairs and told them that she and Fitzwilliam would be down directly.

Waiting in the alcove, she watched the activities in the lake. A few ducks landed with a splash and she caught sight of a fox disappearing into the woods. Clouds momentarily hid the sun and the trees rattled in the distance. Elizabeth longed for spring to come fully. She always found winter to be intolerable.

Backing up from the window, she wondered what could be keeping her husband. She began to venture back down the hallway and stopped by a mirror close to his door. Vainly she tried to straighten out her lace cap, muttering a curse under her breath.

"Come now, Elizabeth," her husband called, laughter lurking in his voice. He shut the door and approached her. "Mr. Foxten shall be gone soon after luncheon and you will have no more need for that."

Still fixated on her reflection, Elizabeth tried unsuccessfully to straighten the contraption. Giving a harsh sigh in frustration, she eventually gave up. She turned toward her husband with a grimace and resigned herself to the horrid device.

"As he is a very kind man, I should hate to expedite his removal."

"As you wish, then," he answered; taking her arm and leading her down the stairs.

They entered the dining room to find Mr. Foxten and Georgiana engaged in conversation. Kitty looked on in an undeniably bored manner, impervious to Georgiana's attempts to draw her in. She immediately perked up when her sister and brother entered, for now they could eat.

"I am very sorry to intrude on your meal," Mr. Foxten began as the servants entered with the steaming plates. "I did not realize the hour was so late or else I would not dream of disturbing your meal."

Elizabeth smiled kindly. "It is a pleasure to have you, Mr. Foxten, and you shall not be allowed to apologize anymore."

"As you wish, ma'am," he replied with a grateful smile. "I came to review the Easter sermon with Mr. Darcy. We shall discuss it after luncheon, as your husband said you would wish to be involved in the proceedings."

Elizabeth gave her husband a grand smile at his thoughtfulness, and told Mr. Foxten of her assent to such a plan. The business of the meal concluded, they partook in earnest. After a spell of little conversation, Kitty grew bored.

"Have you made any improvements to your house since we've last been there?" She inquired politely; pursuing a subject she had some interest in.

"Not as yet, Miss Bennet. Easter is a very busy time of year and I have been much too involved in the church of late. Hopefully when the season is over, I will have more time to devote to my home," he happily answered, addressing himself solely to her. "Do you have any new ideas since your last visit?"

"No, I am afraid not," Kitty replied, delighted at being considered important. "But I shall promise to put more thought into it."

Mr. Foxten gave a radiant smile. "I could ask for nothing better, Miss Bennet."

Kitty's ego was lifted up, but she found she had exhausted this topic. Dearly wishing she had only thought of something that could have improved his home, she had to endure Georgiana's change of topic. The conversation drifted into specifics concerning the Easter service. Kitty honestly tried to follow the conversation, but she soon discovered it was much too boring. She found herself idly playing with her food and staring out the wide windows when a servant entered carrying the days post.

He bowed and distributed the letters accordingly, though he was a bit ashamed at having interrupted his master with a guest. Elizabeth's easy manner assured him that no harm was done, especially as she recognized Jane's flowing script on one of the letters.

Kitty looked up hopefully, and for once was happily rewarded. A letter written in a strong hand was delivered to her and she could barely contain her excitement. Elizabeth noticed the decidedly male handwriting and gave her husband a questioning look. However, he was just as clueless as to Kitty's correspondent.

"A letter from your brother, Miss Bennet?" Mr. Foxten asked with seeming ease. Elizabeth and Georgiana were quick to note the suspicion inherent in his tone.

"Oh no! Mr. Bingley would have no reason to write to me!" She exclaimed with a little laugh. "It is from a very dear friend in town."

Mr. Foxten's eyes darkened slightly and his manner became more formal and stiff. "What a fortunate occurrence to have received his letter today."

"Oh, yes," she continued, quite oblivious to the pain she was inflicting. "I am quite sure my last letter went astray for it has been a frightfully long time since he wrote."

Awkwardness settled around the group, to which Kitty remained blissfully unaware.

"May I be excused, Lizzy?" She asked promptly, looking earnestly after her letter.

Elizabeth felt the impropriety of such an act, especially as she was more confident than ever of Mr. Foxten's true emotions. However, she caught sight of her husband's scant nod and agreed. As soon as Kitty fled the room, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth assured Mr. Foxten of their great desire to hear his sermon. He dutifully followed, but his animation was gone.

Georgiana watched the unraveling of their dinner party with surprise at the suddenness it had occurred. She decided Kitty would desire some time alone with her letter and decided to find her way to her instrument for the time being. She and Fitzwilliam were to call on the Epworth's that evening and she was confident that an hour at her music would suffice.

* * *

Kitty remained in the highest of spirits for the next few days. Her dejection and petulance in Hertfordshire seemed behind her. Unfortunately, this change in mood had caused her to be less decorous and less thoughtful than she had become under Elizabeth and Georgiana's calming influence. Elizabeth was chagrined at the thought that all her progress with her sister had been shredded due to an infatuation with one man. She did not yet know the identity of the gentlemen, though her instinct told her it was Mr. Stafford. Fitzwilliam joined in her disapproval of that acquaintance, and she hoped Kitty would outgrow this foolishness before they returned to town. She selfishly hoped that Mr. Foxten might be persuaded to continue his advances, but without Kitty's encouragement, she nearly despaired.

Elizabeth laughed at herself as she shook off this musings. "Being married must make one a matchmaker."

According to Georgiana, the meeting with the Epworth's had gone off well, even though Fitzwilliam had reverted to his taciturn disposition. She had been lucky that the men had gone off to another room, so she only needed to discourse with Amelia. With her still low self-esteem, the task of entertaining two was certainly daunting.

Elizabeth was particularly concerned that her absence would be considered irksome, but Georgiana assured her no such thing. Amelia had been very pleased with her thoughtfulness in abstaining from such obvious falsehoods. Elizabeth was shocked that such a woman was so frank, and was hauntingly aware of another Lady Catherine. Georgiana guessed to where her sister's thoughts were, and assured her that Amelia was not the case.

"Although, I cannot deny that she is quite odd," Georgiana conceded.

This announcement was enough to pique Elizabeth's curiosity even more. Georgiana was at loath to say anything negative about a person, unless it was some particular evil. To have her be so honest about her friend heightened Elizabeth's desire to meet her and her brother. After all, she could not let her study of characters become limited by marriage.

Easter day dawned brightly, with lazy clouds floating by on a chilly breeze. Kitty was ecstatic that she was able to wear a brand new gown of mellow coral. She had fixed up a bonnet especially for the occasion and was very proud of her accomplishment. Elizabeth was more thrilled that she had kept down her breakfast.

Georgiana and Fitzwilliam were silent on the ride to church. Kitty, still in raptures over her new coral gown, did not notice. The Darcy siblings were very unused to Easter at their own parish and both recalled the formality of Rosings Park. Elizabeth tried to coax some response out of them by musing on Colonel Fitzwilliam's plight.

"Actually," Fitzwilliam replied, turning his gaze toward her. "He went to Matlock for the holiday. His mother desired to see him, though I imagine Lady Catherine was less than pleased with the turn of events."

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, a smile tugging at its corners, as she tried to control her laughter. "I do not think she is used to so little company at Easter. I remember she was excessively fond of the both of you."

"Yes, she was," Fitzwilliam concluded darkly.

The carriage halted at the entrance to the church. Ancient gargoyles leered down at them as they entered the wide doors flanked by stained glass. Sunlight streamed through prismatic windows as they walked down the long aisle toward the Darcy pew. Various tenants and gentry bowed in turn to the preeminent family. They finally reached their pew at the very front of the church directly across from the Epworths. Elizabeth looked eagerly to see their neighbors, but was disappointed, as they had not yet arrived.

The polished, yet unforgiving, wood served as their rest for the next hour and a half. Mr. Foxten arrived in procession with two fidgeting altar boys while the aged organ belted somber tunes from the rear of the church. A third boy brought forth the Paschal candle, which was lit in inquisitive silence. It flickered in the drafty church, but remained lit on the altar. It seemed as though it were gazing upon the congregation with an uneasy mixture of hope for the new season and an accusation of sins.

The cheerful solemnities of Easter commenced. Mr. Foxten's sermon was met with much approval from the audience and the "Gloria's" and "Allelulia's" rose to the highest rafters of the church during the hymns. Elizabeth stood next to her husband, savoring his strong voice as he carried the words effortlessly.

When the service ended, she was able to meet the family that had become such a mystery to her. Amelia Epworth, with murky, jade eyes, and dark auburn hair tucked coyly under her bonnet, was certainly an astonishing woman to behold. Her flowing gown, the color of the newborn leaves bursting outside, created an ethereal vision of a nymph. Her curtsy was all forced politeness and her eyes stared blatantly over her new acquaintances.

Elizabeth was unsure how to respond to such a personage, but performed a deferential curtsy and gave those scrutinizing eyes a pleasant smile. Although her manner of greeting remained guarded, Miss Epworth's eyes quirked in surprise.

Nathaniel Epworth reminded Elizabeth of Bingley. He was a bit of a dandy in his powder blue overcoat and a flashy cloth of gold waistcoat, and his face spoke of general good-humor and an absence of self-consciousness. The gallant bow he bestowed on the ladies was made with evident flourish and a rakish grin. Elizabeth could almost guarantee that Kitty was already violently in love with his manners as well as his hair, the color of a blazing fire, which contrasted delightfully with his cool, lucid blue eyes.

"Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and Miss Bennet, I believe?" He asked grandly, fixing Elizabeth and Kitty with his attentive eyes. Elizabeth caught his dismissive glance toward Kitty and was thankful her sister had not seen. She was engrossed with Miss Epworth's apparel, unconsciously fingering her own modest attire, and feeling her self-contentment vanish. The teal ribbons entwined in Kitty's gown made her feel juvenile when compared to the ribbed oak over-skirt that allowed the filmy green to peak beneath.

"My sister informed me that we shall be spending the evening at Pemberley. You cannot imagine my excitement, Mrs. Darcy. It has been quite a few years since I have been there. I imagine you have made many improvements to the place. Darcy was a bit of an old man in his choice of furnishing," Mr. Epworth rattled off, smirking at the jibe toward Fitzwilliam.

Fitzwilliam's face descended into a stony glare, his mouth becoming a thin line of discontent.

"I assure you, Mr. Epworth, that it was no such case. I have yet to find a more happily situated and elegantly furnished place, but as it is now my home, I must have a certain partiality," Elizabeth answered, modulating her answers between civility and frankness. Her new neighbors were hard people to read.

"Naturally, Mrs. Darcy," he countered glibly. "One would be concerned if your feelings were different."

They fortunately reached the entrance to the church and were obliged to part with the tedious civilities in order to meet with Mr. Foxten. He was flushed with pleasure and relief of a successful sermon, especially on such an important day.

"An excellent speech, old chap!" Mr. Epworth offered, giving the startled man an enthusiastic handshake. "I declare we have heard such words floating about St. Paul's once or twice."

"I am honored, sir," the befuddled parson returned kindly. "Did it meet to your liking?" He continued, addressing the ladies of the party.

"Very much, Mr. Foxten," Georgiana replied demurely, inconspicuously nudging Kitty to offer her praise.

"Yes, it was lovely," Kitty added, sending Georgiana a barely concealed glare. "However, I must confess, there was one part where I am not sure I caught your meaning, but I cannot for the life of me remember what it was now."

"Perhaps you shall remember by this evening, Miss Bennet, and I may be able to assist you then. I should be remiss in my duties if I did not," he stated earnestly, caught between eagerness at a private audience with the lady and concern that his speech could have been misconstrued.

Miss Epworth made a stiff curtsy and declared, in a bored monotone, that it had been "delightful." The girls exited to the carriage and Miss Epworth followed her brother to theirs. Elizabeth detained Foxten for a brief moment to confirm the times for the evening.

"Of course, ma'am. I should not miss it for anything," he replied, his gaze unwittingly drifting toward the waiting Darcy carriage. Kitty was laughing loudly, her head thrown back, causing the sunlight to catch her curls and infuse a divine light into them. The glow from her gown heightened her complexion and Elizabeth privately owned she had never seen her so well.

She glanced back at the besotted pastor before her and felt her heart twinge. The poor soul. With a slight clearing of her throat, she regained his attention. He shuffled uncomfortably, and a slight blush crept behind his cheeks.

"I am glad, sir. We shall await you with much pleasure," she offered with a reassuring smile.

He bowed to her curtsy and she made her wary over to the carriage, accepting her husband's arm into it. She leaned against the soft cushions, appreciating their comfort after the rigid pews. The black carriage door shut with a sharp snap and her gaze swept up the ancient stone steps to the vaulted doorway at the church. She saw the parson black staring straight at the carriage and sighed. Why was it that the kindest men set their caps at the most thoughtless girls?

_A/N: My only plea is that a dead writer cannot write. Other than that, I deserve any such punishment you see fit to send me. I am heartily sorry and have made my New Year's Resolution to post chapters much sooner. Thank you once again to Mlle. Skywalker for her excellant job beta-ing and the prodding in the back to post. _

_Please review and make the flames not too scorching..._


	16. Degrees of Infatuation

_Disclaimer: a redundant notice that reminds readers that I cannot legitimately claim Jane Austen's work as my own..._

**Degrees of Infatuation**

Dull, dull, dull, Kitty grumbled

Dull, dull, dull, Kitty grumbled. Why must everything be so dull?

A sliver of the moon peered over the budding hedgerow, casting a dim light upon the magnificent grounds of Pemberley. Kitty did not have a great affection for nature, but in dire circumstances, she would rather take in the nuances of the moonlight reflecting off the endless lake than pay attention to the stilted conversation indoors. At Pemberley she was supposed to be enjoying the effects of fine, high society and here she was, forced to stare out the windowpane. Did no one have talk about fashion anymore? Miss Epworth had mentioned the new bonnet styles briefly, but only to join the men in their ridicule of the design. Kitty found them highly comfortable and essential in preserving an intricate hairstyle. For the last hour the rest of the party had discussed nothing but Lambton and Kympton and she could find nothing interesting about it. There was too much useless information to learn about people she did not care two straws about.

She sighed longingly, dreaming of the letter she knew was traveling on its way to her. Charles, for he would always be Charles, not Mr. Stafford, had asked her when she would next be in London and assured her that he was grieved at her absence along with other heartfelt messages. His letters put her in mind of the flatteries the officers in Meryton would bestow on her, and she was glad that Lydia was not there to steal any of her beaus or mock them With a slight shake of her hair, she banished that thought and focused back on the one that gave her more pleasure. Charles was in love with her and wanted to be with her as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, she was stranded in Pemberley with insufferable conversation about nobody important.

It was thought that the Epworth's arrival for supper would be a source of amusement, but anything to be got out of Miss Epworth was a monotonous cynicism. True, she could pass around the standard niceties, but they seemed to be laced with some sort of ulterior meaning that Kitty rarely understood. It infuriated her, especially when Miss Epworth haughtily lifted one shapely eyebrow in astonishment whenever Kitty foolishly let on that she was unaware of the particulars at hand. Mr. Epworth was a generally pleasing man, but he had said scarcely three words to her all evening. He spent all of his time baiting Mr. Darcy and flirting with Georgiana and Lizzy. Lizzy was married, for heaven's sake! Kitty felt this slight keenly. She was left with only Mr. Foxten and all his awkward glory. A clergyman. She was left to converse with a clergyman. Georgiana, thankfully, the merciful friend that she was, intervened constantly so that there was not always silence at their end of the table. Having exhausted the few attempted conversations about the season and local matters that Kitty actually knew, their end of the table fell into an awkward silence. Mr. Foxten tried to integrate himself into the other conversation and Kitty felt all the mortification at her failure as a lady of society. She had eventually drifted back into those ever-present daydreams of her far off admirer and the charming long letter he was sure to pen.

A flock of lazy ducks swirled in the lake, sending ripples careening after each other. With a sigh, Kitty wondered if she could legitimately claim an illness and retire for the evening. A sudden movement made her dimly aware of a shift in the party centered in the room. Small laughter still echoed in the corners, but a figure left the welcoming glow of the firelight and meandered toward the delectable sidebar. Mr. Foxten. Suppressing a particularly vile curse, Kitty hastily averted her gaze to the calming scene outside. She hoped he would not pursue a conversation with her, although a perfectly staged faint would provide some excitement and a perfect excuse to retire.

Measured footfalls, muffled on the grand Oriental carpet, grew louder. Resting her forehead on the cool glass, Kitty summoned up the civility she knew was buried somewhere within her. It would not do for her to be unkind to Mr. Foxten in Lizzy's home simply because he was not Mr. Stafford and Miss Epworth was an uncharitable hag!

"Miss Bennet?" He called by way of greeting, having halted a foot away from her.

She looked up at him, her dark blue eyes betraying her annoyance at this interruption of her solitude. "Mr. Foxten."

He gave her a bow and begged her not to trouble herself with a curtsey as he could tell she was happily situated at the window seat. The wall next to it became his perch where he presently joined her pursuit of the view outside. Kitty felt remarkably uncomfortable in such a private setting with this man, even though the entire party was just beyond them and most of the candles were lit. To an outsider looking in, one would think they were an acknowledged couple seeking a few moments together in a setting as public as it was intimate in number.

"Do you remember the trouble you had with my sermon?" He questioned, his gaze flitting briefly to her face before returning out the window.

Kitty blushed, ashamed that the only private correspondence anyone seemed to have with her only reminded her of her shortcomings. Every person except one, whose residence in London would in all likelihood not concur with her own. Setting a small sigh free, Kitty recalled the passage that had troubled her.

"Oh, well, I suppose... Well, I feel a bit silly inquiring. It was just a bit of a debate Georg- Miss Darcy and I were having," she replied lightly, trying to hide her embarrassment.

"It is the duty of the clergy to aide the parish in understanding God's word and I should enjoy any chance to help," he countered pleasantly, a genuine smile adorning his face.

Kitty chanced a glance at his face and was surprised to find it so devoid of that smug haughtiness she was used to seeing on most people when confronted with her ignorance. She ducked her head down in an effort to hide her blush.

"We- we were debating the nature of sin, sir, whether it is mostly from our own actions or from the power of the Devil," she finally offered, stealing a quick look at him.

Mr. Foxten nodded thoughtfully, his look inquisitive and sincere. Kitty grew confidence from this and felt secure that he would not immediately disregard her ideas.

"Well, Miss Darcy agreed with you... with what you said in the sermon, about how we must be always on our guard for the Devil in our actions, but then, if the Devil is so powerful, are we not helpless to him? I just... I just think that... perhaps it could be his strength that forces our actions to turn evil, that we are powerless to defend ourselves against his evil. I know it's not what you think, but I cannot help but believe this to be truer."

Her admission was met by silence and she had not the courage to see what his reaction was. The window creaked softly against the wind while the fire cracked noisily. She heard the soft sloshing of his drink in the elegant glass and sighed. Of course he thought her a fool. Why had she even spoken?

"I can see where your ideas would come from, Miss Bennet," he began in a slow, thoughtful voice. "It is what most people would wish to believe. Does it not strike you that blaming the Devil for all of one's poor decisions is much easier than taking responsibility for one's sins? That is how it appears to me. I agree that the Devil is mighty powerful and does not hesitate to take an opportunity to sway us to wrongdoing, but the burden is on us to determine which actions are those of the Devil. God gave us the power of free will, the ability to make these decisions, so I believe he meant for us to be able to determine the right course of action."

Kitty stared out the window, watching the sweep of the lake at a loss at what to say. She certainly did not want to feel like a selfish fool blaming other entities for her sins, which was clearly what he was implying. Her mouth twisted in dissatisfaction. But was this not what Lizzy had been hinting at for a while? Since Lydia was married, Kitty owned that she suffered more twinges of conscience that ever before. Was this the free will they meant? Before she had always followed Lydia without a second thought, but now?

"I have set you thinking, I see," Mr. Foxten observed wryly, his expression amused, but not insulting.

Kitty flushed and nodded her head, ashamed that such revealing thoughts should be plaguing her in public. But then again, had she not invited tem by opening up this subject? It was Georgiana's doing, she realized. Georgiana was the one who had mentioned their debate to Mr. Foxten at the church. Kitty turned her head to glare at the shining curls of her friend. She remembered then what Georgiana had mentioned a few days ago, that Mr. Foxten fancied her. A thought that had seemed absurd then now gained more substance. Here he was talking to her and ignoring the rest of the room, especially his patrons. It was so strange an idea that she could still not accept it. Why would he fancy her of all people? Did not clergymen always fancy dull people like Mary?

"Oh, I would not harm your delicate ears. I am sure being used to Miss Darcy's fine performance would make mine truly dreadful," Miss Epworth's monotone called from the group.

Kitty focused her attention to the group at large, and from the corner of her eye she saw Mr. Foxten do the same. Lizzy was gently urging Miss Epworth to play. After a few more polite protestations that were mere formalities, Miss Epworth took her place at the pianoforte. She played a few notes to get the feel of the instrument and then embarked on a challenging Mozart Sonata. Kitty closed her eyes and listened, watching pictures form in her mind like they did whenever Georgiana or Lizzy played. She usually discovered a picture she would endeavor to paint, but this time she could not. Opening her eyes with a troubled countenance, she suddenly realized what was missing. Miss Epworth's performance was technically flawless, but lacked the passion, the emotion that Georgiana and Lizzy always brought.

Polite applause greeted the conclusion of her performance. Miss Epworth accepted with a modest curtsey before returning to her seat. As she crossed the room, she caught sight of Kitty perched in the window seat with Mr. Foxten a respectful two feet away. Her haughty face softened into a small smile.

"Miss Bennet," she called, her monotone not betraying the generosity she felt she was giving. "Would you do us the honor of playing next?"

Kitty flushed deeply as the entire room looked at her. Her family shared glances of alarm, surprise, and pity. The others looked on expectantly, thinking her reaction born from shyness.

"We should all love to hear you play," Mr. Foxten added gently.

For some reason Kitty refused to comprehend, this made her feel worse, and tears began to well behind her eyes. She hid her face as best she could behind her scant curls. Georgiana, seeing this, instantly stood up and was addressing the room before she even knew it.

"Miss Bennet does not..." she trailed off, suddenly aware that the attention of the whole room was centered on her. Taking a deep breath, she plunged forward. "Miss Bennet's talents take another direction. She is a very accomplished artist. The painting by the mantle was done by her."

Miss Epworth's eyebrow arched in disbelief at this announcement. Turning back to Kitty, she addressed her. "You do not play, Miss Bennet?"

Kitty shook her head miserably. Miss Epworth's eyebrow arched even higher and the fleeting softness vanished from her face. She took her seat resolutely, facing away from the window. Georgiana, in another effort at distraction, took her place at the pianoforte and instantly pelted out a lively air. Her distraction and concern for Kitty detracted from her performance, although she beheld Mr. Foxten walk with a purpose toward the painting she had mentioned. Her brother and sister were engaged in distracting the Epworth's, though their success was debatable.

Surrendering to her misery and embarrassment, Kitty dropped her head into her hands, trying to quell the tears that were slipping out of her eyes. Was there nothing that would prove that she was somewhat worthy of anything? Why was she always the failure?

"You have remarkable gift, Miss Bennet," she heard Mr. Foxten say. "That is a beautiful painting."

It was a lie; she knew it was. They were only the social niceties that meant absolutely nothing. Georgiana was wrong; he was not in love with her. There was only one man who saw anything in her, and he was far away. She could not stand this humiliation and leaped up from the seat and bolted for the door. Georgiana paused in her playing and stared at Elizabeth who slightly shook her head and motioned for her to continue. Mr. Foxten stared dumbfounded at the spot, not realizing that what he said could have upset her. Nursing his glass, he stared out the window, allowing the lively music to guide his thoughts from the turbulent emotions he held within.

* * *

_Dearest Kitty,_

_My love, when will you convince your sister to bring you to London? It has been much too long since I have seen you. There is a play running that I think you would greatly enjoy and your friends, the Miss Whitney's, have been asking for you. Can you imagine the wonderful walks we will have in the park, my love? I can. Come as soon as you can, or else perhaps you could persuade your brother-in-law to allow my sister and I to visit? It would be a grand scheme, but I know your brother-in-law is quite stern and stubborn. _

_Until we can meet, my love, _

_Charles Stafford_

Kitty sighed and leaned back in the window seat in one of the vacant parlors. This wonderful note, now creased from frequent perusal, had arrived the day after that horrid supper on Easter and had set everything right again. Here was someone who thought the world of her and loved her for being exactly who she was. He never judged her on her accomplishments, or lack thereof, and he longed for her just as she longed for him. It was enough to restore her self-confidence and meet the rest of the day in a much joyous mood.

Everyone thought she would be fragile and upset and beheld her change with bewilderment. Lizzy, she knew, was only concerned when she discovered that the letter, written in a male hand, had been the cause of her increase in spirits. Kitty refused to talk about the issue, saying she had just been tired and embarrassed and that there was nothing to be discussed. Lizzy had thankfully left her alone after that, though her and Fitzwilliam venture into Lincolnshire definitely helped. Mr. Epworth had let them know of an estate that was newly empty and Fitzwilliam had had some strange desire to see it. She knew little of the particulars, charting it all up to boring business.

Kitty became distracted, often drifting into daydreams and sketching little scenes straight out of her head. When Mr. Foxten visited them again a few days later, she was able to kindly dissuade his attentions. She talked happily of her letter, of her great desire to visit London, and demanding his speculation on which play her admirer could possibly mean. Georgiana could barely contain her disgust and, happily for poor Mr. Foxten, turned his attention toward herself and matters of mutual interest. Kitty had not minded in the slightest, promptly drifting into one of her listless daydreams.

A full fortnight later, she still clutched the note as tenderly as she had when it was new. Charles' replies were always late in coming, but she accepted it as matter of course. He was a very busy man and she could not expect that he would keep a very diligent correspondence. It was precisely the thing to make her cherish every letter even more. Kitty allowed her mind to follow again the now familiar path to her fantasies.

"Kitty! There you are. I wondered where you had got to," Georgiana exclaimed cheerfully as she invaded Kitty's sanctuary.

"I have been here all morning," Kitty replied disgruntled. It had been a wonderful fantasy.

"Oh. I shall look here first next time. Mrs. Reynolds informed me that we are to have a visitor for dinner and I thought I ought to let you know as soon as possible."

"Who?"

"Mr. Foxten. He always comes on Wednesdays to meet with Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth."

"Why would he come if they aren't here?" Kitty asked mildly alarmed.

"Well, since they left us to act for them, he has come to meet with us. They usually meet to discuss any parish business and the sermon for the week," Georgiana replied, trying to infuse confidence into her tone. She herself was a bit nervous at being the acting hostess of Pemberley, but her years of training would carry her through. Plus, she had developed a friendship with Mr. Foxten, mainly due to his increasing failure to woo Kitty.

"I still don't see why he has to come and see us. He can get on well enough when nobody is here, so why does he need to see us?" Kitty added annoyed.

"Because he wishes to and we must oblige him," Georgiana countered curtly, standing up. "It would be very rude of us to insult him as our brother and sister's guest. I hope you will be ready for dinner."

"Of course, Georgiana," Kitty replied affronted. "When are they coming back?"

Georgiana turned from the doorway. "Within a week they said, and depending on how they approve of the estate, we will all go to London so they can meet with Fitzwilliam's friend."

"London!" Kitty exclaimed, instantly on her feet and her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh, I've so longed to go back to London!"

"Yes, Kitty, I know," Georgiana sighed, exasperated with her sister. "I have to meet with Mrs. Reynolds about dinner."

"Alright. Are we meeting with Mr. Foxten before or after dinner?"

"After, I think. He must be running late, or else he would have been here by now."

Kitty nodded. "I suppose I'll go dress now for dinner."

"Very well. I will see you then," Georgiana answered quickly, eager to escape. Kitty had been nothing short of vexing since receiving that note and Georgiana found her own vast stores of patience waning.

With Georgiana gone, Kitty spun and danced around the room. She could be in London within a fortnight! This thought alone stuck in her brain. She suddenly stopped her dance to stare at the letter still clasped in her hands. A letter, of course! She would write to him immediately. He would surely enjoy this news.

Kitty bounded out of the room with this new purpose, sending maids shaking their heads in her wake.

* * *

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth."

Her hazy eyes blinked opened, one hand reaching up to rub her cheek. "Yes?"

"We have arrived, my dear," Fitzwilliam replied, wisely keeping his amusement hidden.

Elizabeth struggled up from her husband's shoulder to sit upright in the carriage. She blinked rapidly, adjusting to the light and the pleasing scenery outside the window. The tree line of an impressive forest loomed beyond a wide courtyard with a cherubic fountain gracing the middle. Looking out the door, which had just been opened by the footman, she beheld elegant marble steps leading up to a rich double-paneled oak door. Stretching out a crick in her neck, Elizabeth gratefully accepted her husband's hand to help her out of the carriage.

"I daresay I approve of this estate already," she offered as she landed at the base of the stairs. "What is its name again?"

"Wyldmont Manor," he replied, taking her arm and leading her to the door.

A manservant greeted them and announced that the housekeeper would be with them shortly. They took the opportunity to admire the entry hall. Its architecture had been, in Elizabeth's opinion, tastefully modernized. The vaulted ceiling still remained with its ancient trim of various nymphs. Dark splotches on the wall, however, marred the general effect. Elizabeth lifted inquisitive eyebrows at beholding them. Leaving her husband's arm, she took a few steps toward the mysterious spots.

"Paintings," her husband called. She turned and looked at him questioningly. "There used to be paintings there."

A face transformed into one of comprehension and she returned to his side as the housekeeper entered from the far door. She put Elizabeth in mind of Mrs. Reynolds, but a bit more stiff and short-tempered. Her footsteps were swift, rapping a staccato beat along the marbled floor.

"Mrs. Hewitt at your service," she announced with a rigid curtsey.

The Darcy's replied with more warming solicitude, careful not to offend the lady.

"We have come to inquire after the estate, ma'am. A friend of ours, newly married, is interested in purchasing a new estate, or at least entering a lease for the time being," Fitzwilliam replied as to why the Darcy's of Pemberley would be at her house.

"I see," she concluded, in a tone that suggested distrust. "How did you hear of the place?"

"An acquaintance informed us shortly after we returned to Derbyshire, ma'am. Mr. Epworth," he added, seeing that she would not be satisfied with a vague response.

Her lips pursed as if she had mistakenly eaten something sour. "I see."

Elizabeth was worried and tried to catch Fitzwilliam's eye, but he had not removed his gaze from the housekeeper. Mrs. Hewitt's expression returned to its original severity and she regained her composure.

"I can safely assume, then, that you know the particulars of how this great estate came to be on the butcher block?" She spat, less annoyed at them, but more at the whole purpose of their being there.

"Some of them, yes, ma'am."

"Gambling and living beyond his income," Mrs. Hewitt emphatically shook her head. "I can only be glad that the true Master passed on years before he could see what his son did with his home. At least the current Lady Chatwyn had enough presence to set them up in Bath where they could still be moderately respectable."

The lady huffed in disgust, her rage lying tensed beneath the surface of formality.

"I am sorry," she continued, tight-lipped. "I forgot my place. I trust your friend will be more responsible with his own estate."

"Yes, ma'am. He currently has a lease, but he finds himself rather desirous of closer friends and more distant relations. I have visited him on many occasions and he has only made improvements to the estate. I do regret that he once tried to add a rather hideous statue to their main gardens, but his wife thankfully talked him out of it."

Mrs. Hewitt's lips lifted slightly, in what Elizabeth presumed was an amused look. She certainly seemed much more human because of it.

"You will forgive me sir, but men cannot always be relied on for taste. If they all had their way, their grandest hunting catches would stare down at us from every room," she replied, the lifts of her lips growing larger.

The Darcy's chuckled and visibly relaxed.

"You are perfectly correct, ma'am," Elizabeth added. "It has taken most of my efforts to stop him from mounting a pheasant in our drawing room."

"It would look grand over the fireplace," Fitzwilliam interjected dryly.

Elizabeth sent him a withering look while Mrs. Hewitt looked in much better humor.

"Come, the drawing room is through here."

She led them through the door she had entered from and they encountered a pleasant room that was surprisingly barren. The walls were a cozy red, almost burgundy, and the fireplace of magnificent white marble. Elizabeth immediately flocked to the windows and beheld a pretty garden beneath her, a bit too orderly for her liking. Beyond was a flat lawn, ideal for playing games, which eventually sloped down toward the forest. She distantly caught a glimmer of the stream before returning to the conversation in the room.

"The Master moved most of his furniture with him to Bath, although we have a few more antique articles stored in other parts of the house. I am afraid your friend will have to pay a decent amount to fully furnish the place," Mrs. Hewitt was saying.

Fitzwilliam nodded, expertly masking what his true thoughts were.

"Is this room drafty?" Elizabeth inquired. "Our breakfast parlor has a habit of it when the wind comes due north."

"No, ma'am, not this room. I will own that the music room has a tendency for drafts and the windows in the billiard room whistle quite eerily at times. Your friend and his wife have no fondness for those outlandish sensational stories, have they? We had a young lady here once who was sure spirits haunted the place. Poppycock!" Mrs. Hewitt exclaimed.

Fitzwilliam chuckled softly. "It is the plight of any old estate, ma'am. We have had our fair share of visitors inquiring if Pemberley is haunted. My friend has been a frequent visitor there and I assure you, he has no such sensibilities. What do you think of this room, Mrs. Darcy?"

Elizabeth shot him an amused and annoyed look. He was well aware that she still found her new name awkward and ill fitting, so he had begun calling her thus at every opportunity, especially when she could not reprimand him for it.

"I like it very much. The views are very pretty and the room is not too large to be inconvenient when guests are here."

"Shall we proceed then?"

"We follow your lead, Mrs. Hewitt."

They continued throughout the estate, dipping their heads into the private rooms as well for a quick look. The rooms were well kept and although largely bare, bespoke of a comfortable living. It was about half the size of Pemberley and had few serious repairs. A few rooms needed to be repainted and the rugs in an unused guest room had been found full of mildew. They had nearly combed through the entire house when Elizabeth confessed herself to be very tired.

"No, Fitzwilliam, there is no need to leave quite yet. We are very nearly finished. I only need to rest a few minutes and I shall be well," Elizabeth replied, trying to placate her husband and not loose her temper.

"I shall send for some lemonade, would that be agreeable?"

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Hewitt."

"Elizabeth, are you sure you are well? It will be no trouble to summon the carriage. We can finish the house tomorrow. Yes, that will be the better plan. I will send a servant to ready the carriage and once you are rested, we shall leave," Fitzwilliam announced, worry manifesting itself paramount in his expression.

"Fitzwilliam, please," Elizabeth replied tersely, her eyes still closed. Her temper had flared up suddenly, as it was wont to do lately.

"I should have been more thoughtful, especially in your condition. We shall return to the inn at once. I am sorry, Mrs. Hewitt, but I fear we must end our visit for the day."

"Of course, Mr. Darcy," she replied kindly, amused at this little family spectacle before her. It reminded her of the old Master, in those days long forgotten.

"Fitzwilliam, please!" Elizabeth exclaimed louder as he continued pacing and fussing. "If you have such a high regard to my health, would you please stop that infernal pacing?"

He started as if singed. "Of course, Elizabeth," he offered, slightly mollified.

Mrs. Hewitt cleared her throat and summoned another servant with orders to bring round their carriage. Shortly after the man left, a maid arrived with the essential glass of lemonade. Elizabeth took it greedily. Fitzwilliam watched her with amusement and worry. Shaking his head, he looked out the window that faced the forest. They were currently in the gallery, which was significantly devoid of many paintings and portraits.

"Come, Fitzwilliam, if you are going to insist that we leave, shall we go?" Elizabeth asked, standing up and addressing him quite pleasantly.

"Of course," he replied, moving forward and offering his arm. She took it gently and he was surprised that she did not grip it tightly as she usually did when upset. She received some cruel pleasure in forcing him to remove his arm in order to restore blood flow. It was his cue in public that he had said or done something offensive. But now, she seemed in a generally pleasant mood. He was a bit wary by this sudden change, but he decided to go along with her instead of questioning it.

"This house is very lovely," she confided softly. "You never did mention which friend you are looking for."

"No, I did not," he replied, but her arched look kept the words flowing. "I mean for it to be a surprise, Elizabeth."

Her mouth twisted in thought and disappointment. "It is Bingley, is it not? Jane did persuade him not to put that horrid sculpture in the garden. And they would be closer to friends... and more distant to relations! Oh, it is them, is it not?"

"No, Elizabeth, of course not. They are quite content at Netherfield."

"You are absolutely horrid at lying. So it is them! I am so happy. To think Jane and I could be within thirty miles of each other!" Elizabeth's face was suffused with joy at this news, while Fitzwilliam's battled between amusement and misery. He had hoped to keep the venture a surprise for both his wife and her sister.

"Oh, do not be so upset, Fitzwilliam. I daresay it will take weeks to remove this grin from my face," she added, twirling her face to display her cheeky grin.

Fitzwilliam could not halt his own answering grin and they entered the main hall laughing. Mrs. Hewitt followed behind them with a quiet smile gracing her features. If their friend and his wife were anything like this couple, she owned that she would be glad to serve them.

"Will you be returning tomorrow?" She inquired.

"Yes, after dinner, if that is agreeable to you?" Fitzwilliam offered.

"Yes, it is. Will you finish touring the house and then the gardens?"

"That sounds like a fine plan. Let us hope the weather holds."

A bustle outside alerted them to the arrival of their carriage. They bid farewell to Mrs. Hewitt and departed. The ride to the inn was not far, about four miles, and passed very quickly. Elizabeth remained in her good humor and they discussed the merits of the house. They agreed that some minor repairs would be necessary, a few of the private rooms needed repainting and the hardwood floor in the ballroom was much the worse for wear, but all in all, it would be a delightful home for Charles and Jane.

At the inn, a hot supper was waiting for them at the table. They eagerly partook of the generous meal. A few letters had arrived in their absence, one from Mr. Davis, Georgiana, and to Elizabeth's surprise, one from Charlotte Collins. Their correspondence had slowed over the past few months, so it was rather a treat. However, the news it brought did not bring much joy.

"Oh dear. Georgiana will not be pleased when she hears this," Elizabeth mused as she finished the letter.

"What is it?" Fitzwilliam asked, half distracted by his own letter.

"Lady Catherine has formally announced Anne's engagement to Lord Rocheford. Apparently she aims to have the wedding before winter starts."

"All the more reason to avoid Kent," he replied bitterly.

"You realize, Fitzwilliam, we will have to do something to honor the marriage. We should invite them all in the summer, as a bit of a peace offering," Elizabeth began, continuing when she saw Fitzwilliam about to protest. "Come, it is up to us to be the bigger people because we know it will not be Lady Catherine. Georgiana did say that she and Anne got along very well when she was in Kent. They are cousins, after all."

"Elizabeth, I would rather not discuss this now," Fitzwilliam replied firmly, perturbed by the contents of his own letter and unwilling to listen to this new vexation.

Elizabeth stewed silently, her ire having suddenly risen. Hot tears from anger, and a hurt she could not account for, deliberately slipped from her eyes. She stood up, flinging the letters on the table, the chair scraping loudly across the wood floor. Fitzwilliam looked up in surprise and was dumbfounded by the woman across from him.

"I will not stand it, Fitzwilliam. All I am trying to do is help heal your family!" She exclaimed, the tears slipping faster.

"Elizabeth!" He cried in astonishment as she ran past him and up the stairs to their room.

A small chuckle from the servant's door caught his attention. The young maid who was standing there had obviously been privy to the whole scene. She came forward unabashedly and started clearing some of the dishes, a small grin lighting up her amused face.

"If ye don't mind me askin', sir, how far 'long is she?" She asked as she piled Elizabeth's silverware on the plate.

"I beg your pardon?" He returned somewhat distracted, inwardly debating whether or not he should go after his wife.

The maid chuckled again. "I'd say let 'er be an' get it out o' 'erself. 'Ow far 'long is she wit' chil' sir?"

"Oh. About five months, so the doctor said," he replied, rather bemused. He was unused to having this sort of conversation with servants that were not his own.

She nodded her head with a knowing look, stacking the serving dishes one on top of the other. His questioning glance attracted her notice and was inspiration enough for her to continue.

"All lasses get moody an' the like when they're wit' chil', sir. Me sister is nigh on seven months, an' we'll all be 'appier fo' it when she's done. Ye try tellin' 'er there's no apple tart to be got in th' spring." Here the girl shook her head and gathered up her mounds of silver. "Don' ye worry, sir. She'll be right as rain in a bit, just give 'er some time. Ye'll learn soon enough. She ain't tha' bad yet."

As she turned to head out the room, Darcy started and stared at her.

"Yet? You mean to say she will get worse?"

She looked back and gave him a pitying smile. "Aye, sir. Much worse."

* * *

"Oh, I'll never get this! It is hopeless. I'm too stupid to learn it."

"Well, if you will not try and prefer to just give up, of course you will never learn. You cannot learn it overnight; it takes hours and hours of practice."

"But all I've been doing is practicing and I'm not getting any better!"

"Then you must not be practicing well. Practicing makes permanent, not perfect, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"If you practice something wrong ten times, you will learn it wrong. If you practice it the right way ten times, you will learn it the right way."

"So you mean I'm practicing wrong?"

"I think so, since I know you have been practicing."

"Great. Then I am just too stupid to learn this."

Georgiana turned away to hide her frustration. Kitty was an infuriating student. She had approached Georgiana nearly a week ago begging for piano lessons. Georgiana wondered if Miss Epworth's scorn had brought about this desire, although Kitty venemently declared it was not so. Georgiana kept her opinion to herself and agreed to help Kitty learn a short piece to play for Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam when they returned. However, as Kitty had virtually no experience with the instrument, the progress was slow.

"Excuse me, miss."

A young maid, Mary, was standing in the doorway.

"Yes."

"Mr. Foxten is here to see you and Miss Bennet. Shall I show him here or to the parlor?"

"Here will fine, thank you Mary."

Mary curtseyed and left to fetch the guest. Kitty, on the other hand, had risen from the bench and looked positively livid.

"Georgiana, how could you? Are you trying to make a mockery of my lack of talent?"

"Not at all, Kitty," Georgiana replied innocently. "Mr. Foxten has a great love of music and I thought he might enjoy seeing this instrument."

The door opened again and Mary announced Mr. Foxten. He bowed and the ladies curtseyed and Georgiana rang for tea. They arranged themselves on the couches as Mrs. Reynolds entered to act as chaperone. Georgiana smiled at her and Mr. Foxten afforded her every curtsey.

"To what pleasure do we owe this visit, Mr. Foxten?" Georgiana began, discreetly nudging Kitty to attention.

"I was wondering if your brother and sister have arrived home. A problem at the parsonage has come to light and I wish to seek their advice," he replied quietly, his manner much more withdrawn since his realization that his beloved was attracted to someone else.

"We do not expect their arrival for another day or so. Apparently they approve very highly of the estate they are visiting. Is there anyway I can be of service to you instead?" Georgiana inquired politely.

"In this matter, no, I am afraid not. However, you could help me pass some of the afternoon in pleasant conversation."

Georgiana smiled softly. "I am sure there is some of that to be had. We have just been practicing our music. You are fond of music, are you not?"

"Yes, excessively fond. But alas, I fear my knowledge of music is limited to hymns."

Georgiana and Kitty chuckled. "Surely there must be some other work you like. Georgiana knows some beautiful tunes," Kitty chimed in.

"I have only one sister who is many years my junior and none of my brothers were of a musical frame of mind. Therefore, I have been quite deprived of quality music, but I enjoy it when I can. I am no stranger to operas or concerts."

"And which composer is your favorite?" Georgiana asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, Salieri is definitely my favorite for operas, but Bach is generally my favorite, as well as Mozart. I cannot say I am too fond of our contemporaries."

"Mozart and Haydn are my favorites, although Bach has never agreed with me. I still admire his work and some of his pieces are suited to my tastes, but not in general."

"I suppose that all depends, Miss Darcy, on if you are speaking of Johann Ludwig Bach or Johann Sebastian Bach."

Kitty sat silently as everyone else chuckled. Once again, their knowledge of music went far beyond her limited knowledge on the subject. Deciding that she might as well make the best of her time, she drifted over to a sketch that was lying on the dark cherry table next to the window. She was attempting to capture the scene outside and was struggling to accurately portray the new leaves on distant trees. Keeping one ear attuned to the conversation, and situating herself so she was not rudely angled away, she began working on her sketch.

"I am sure you must have a favorite hymn. Mine is 'Songs of the Praise the Angels Sang.'" (Who is speaking?)

"A beautiful hymn. I could well see a lady with such a musical talent being partial to it. 'A Mighty Fortress Is Our God' would have to be mine, Miss Darcy. Surely you have noticed how often it has been in the service."

Georgiana laughed. "Yes, sir. I think I have heard it once or twice."

"And you, Miss Bennet? Which is your favorite hymn?"

"Oh! Well, I..." Kitty was caught off guard, focused as she was on the intricacies of a particular knot of trees. "There was one that we always sang as children. Oh, what was it? Oh! I remember. 'There is a Green Hill Far Away.'"

Mr. Foxten nodded and smiled. "That was one of my favorites as a child."

Kitty, although pleased that he approved of her choice, could not help but feel as though she had been patted on the head like an amusing child. It was such behavior that made her love Charles all the more. He treated her as a young, desirable woman, not as if he were indulging a child. Kitty's face soured into a twisted frown as Georgiana carried on the conversation.

"Does your sister have a favorite composer?"

"Well, she is fond of Mozart, but like Miss Bennet, her talent lies in painting. Our mother's parlor is solely decorated with her watercolors," he answered, with a nod toward Kitty.

Kitty's interest was immediately piqued, and not only by the mention of her name. "I should love to see some of her work. Are many of her pieces at your home?"

"Only two, one of our estate and a portrait of our parents. She has promised to bring some of her paintings of Somerset and Bere Aller, the village nearby, when they visit in the summer."

"I should dearly love to meet her," Kitty offered sincerely. "She must be a remarkable painter."

"She is. It is all my mother can do to tear her away from her easel and force her into society."

"Surely she cherishes the moments in society! You see a great variety of people that end up in your paintings in some way or another."

Mr. Foxten paused for a minute before continuing. "I suppose that makes sense, Miss Bennet. You shall have to convince her of it when she comes."

As Kitty gave her promise to expose his sister to society, Georgiana looked on in amusement. Kitty's insistence to ignore Mr. Foxten never seemed to be followed through. At that moment, he had risen and looked over her sketch, offering her praises. She saw Kitty glow with the compliment and realized that she looked beautiful without that petulant frown on her face. Georgiana reached over to pick up some embroidery when she was alerted by a commotion in the hall. The door was flung open and a harried servant entered focusing solely on Mrs. Reynolds.

"Mrs. Reynolds, ma'am, the Master is here! Scotty saw the carriage entering the park!"

Mrs. Reynolds instantly jumped up, quickly curtseyed her apology and dashed out the room, orders rolling off her tongue before the door was properly shut. Georgiana and Kitty's eyes met across the room. In the same instant, they tossed down whatever they were holding to hug each other in delight. Mr. Foxten stood awkwardly at the table as the girls' exclamations echoed around the room.

"Let us go down to the entrance hall," Georgiana began as their merriment faded. "Mr. Foxten, will you join us?"

"Oh... well... I would hate to burden Mr. and Mrs. Darcy so soon after arriving home. I shall just greet them and visit them tomorrow," he replied.

"Are you sure?" Kitty asked. "I am sure they will not mind."

"Elizabeth might, though," Georgiana stated. "Who knows how long they have been traveling."

"Oh, you're quite right, Georgiana," Kitty replied, her face troubled.

"Thank you for your understanding, Mr. Foxten," Georgiana offered to dispel the looming tension in the room. "Would you be so kind as to escort us downstairs?"

"Of course, Miss Darcy," he replied grandly, offering an arm to both of the ladies.

Georgiana and Kitty both took one arm and proceeded down the staircase to the entrance hall. They paused a few steps before the bottom to watch as the servants arranged themselves around the hall. Expectation crackled through the air as they all strained to hear the first sounds of the carriage outside. After what felt like ages, the long awaited thud of horse hooves and the creak and bustle of the carriage built up into a thunderous halt outside the doors. The typical sounds of coachmen were heard as well as the sharp snap of the carriage door closing. Footmen outside pulled the heavy oak doors open and lit up the full entrance hall with late afternoon sunlight.

As they grew accustomed to the flooding light, Fitzwilliam's deep laugh rumbled across the hall.

"Goodness, Elizabeth. It seems they have gathered the whole house!"

The servants disappeared in a wave of deference with only the trio on the stairs standing above it. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy meet their eager gazes with tired smiles and mild astonishment at beholding Mr. Foxten. The man in question quickly hurried forward with a grand bow.

"Mr. Foxten, what a pleasure," Fitzwilliam greeted with a mixture of sincerity and hidden bewilderment.

"I am very sorry, sir, to come upon you right when you returned home. I had come for our usual weekly visit believing you to be already home and your kind sisters were gracious enough to entertain me for a brief visit. I was just taking my leave when we heard of your arrival."

"You are welcome to stay, Mr. Foxten. We do not wish to hurry your departure," Elizabeth offered although her voice was tired and she rested heavily on her husband's arm.

"You are very kind, Mrs. Darcy, but I fear I must be going. I would not want to intrude on your reunion and I am expecting the Garney's for supper."

"Of course, we would not wish to detain you. Will you join us for dinner tomorrow then?"

"With pleasure. Good day," he answered with a general bow to all the Darcy's. They all returned the gesture and continued on to the drawing room above. Kitty caught a glimpse of him in the door before he departed. He gave her a small smile and then ducked out the door. Kitty's face jerked forward and she shook it off. She was determined to dissuade him, not encourage him!

"Would you like to freshen up first?" Georgiana asked as they paused outside the drawing room. "We can have tea sent up here, or to the music room, if you prefer."

"The music room would be lovely, Georgiana," Elizabeth replied tiredly. "We will be down shortly."

"Good Lord, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth yawned as they walked up to their rooms. "How can I be so tired from sitting in a carriage?"

"Well, we have been walking a great deal surveying the estate. Would you like to rest, take a nap? I can let the girls know. I am sure they will understand," he replied with great concern.

"No, Fitzwilliam. I will be fine, I promise you," she declared in annoyance as they parted at their rooms. With a sigh to signal her complete annoyance, she yanked open the door and shut it with equal vehemence.

Fitzwilliam stared at the door with one eyebrow raised. He remembered what the serving maid in Lincolnshire had warned him about. His mouth twisted into a mixture of grin and grimace. Elizabeth's volatile emotions were going to take some getting used to.

* * *

Georgiana sat at her vanity brushing out her long strawberry blonde curls. Ever since she was young, her hair had always been brushed the recommended one hundred strokes to make it strong and shine. She sighed as she was doing it, thinking back on the evening's events. Elizabeth's emotions were quite… startling. She had gone from puzzlement at seeing the beginner piano books at the pianoforte to extreme bouts of delight when Kitty confessed that she was learning how to play. Laughing at the remembrance, Georgiana saw, in her mind's eye, a startled Kitty trapped in Elizabeth's strangling hug. From this peak of euphoria, Elizabeth plunged into extreme melancholy upon hearing that no letter from Jane had arrived. She began imagining all sorts of horrible occurrences and was about to write a letter herself before Fitzwilliam, caught in the throes of amusement, managed to calm her down to a more normal state. Elizabeth remained relatively placid for the rest of the evening and no one objected to her turning in early that night. Fitzwilliam swore she would be better once she had gotten a decent night's sleep.

Georgiana chuckled softly, watching the flickering candlelight dance upon the thick turquoise curtains. She had declined a fire, deciding that the late April weather was warm enough. Even so, she felt a bit of a chill. Halting the meticulous brushing of her hair, she donned her pale rose dressing gown, pausing at the collection of portraits on her mantle. One of the miniatures was of her mother, her dark curls and stern brow the opposite of her husband's fair hair and easy manner. Georgiana knew that both Fitzwilliam and herself had their mother's eyes; Lady Catherine would never let them forget that they had the Fitzwilliam eyes. Georgiana had always believed Lady Catherine's preference for her brother stemmed from his close resemblance to their mother.

As she stood there she remembered a time when her father had been there at Pemberley too. He became very ill while she was in finishing school and no one had bothered to tell her. Unsurprisingly, when she had returned home to find him gaunt and drawn, she was shocked beyond belief. She remembered crying in Fitzwilliam's arms as he told her that soon it would just be the two of them, that it was time for Father to be with Mother again. She had wanted to follow him, so they could all be a family again, but that was when Fitzwilliam told her she would be leaving him behind. She could never do that, not to her very own brother. For the longest time after that, it seemed, it had always been just the two of them. Their father had always spent more time with Fitzwilliam and when she was younger she assumed it was just because he was the son, the right gender. It was not until later that she realized he had been preparing Fitzwilliam for the time he would be running all of Pemberley by himself.

She sighed again, gazing at the faces of her parents, wondering what they were thinking, looking down on them now. Her father would be laughing at Elizabeth's behavior, patting Fitzwilliam on the back for finding such a wife. He was probably wondering where his daughter's beau was and when he would be able to give him a swift kick in the rear to get him moving. Georgiana giggled when she thought of that. That was the threat he would give George and Fitzwilliam when they were boys.

She stared hard at her mother's portrait and fruitlessly tried to imagine her thoughts. The stoic painting revealed nothing to her. All she knew of this enigmatic person who had given her life was that she loved to sing and was very kind and loyal to the very few she loved. Her father never talked about her; Fitzwilliam said it hurt him too much to talk of her. The only knowledge she had of her mother was the little stories Fitzwilliam would tell and the ones Mrs. Reynolds was always willing to share.

"Georgiana? Are you decent?"

Georgiana jumped at her brother's voice. He had not been in her chambers for ages. Checking that her dressing gown was securely fastened, she answered, letting him know to enter.

He stood awkwardly at the doorway, trying to remember the last time he had been in her room. Not much in her room had changed, but the whole atmosphere seemed different.

"Is Elizabeth well? Is something wrong?" Georgiana asked worry etched in her young face.

"Oh, yes. Yes, she is well," he answered quickly, but he still looked uneasy.

"Are you sure, brother?" She repeated, noting how he had not answered her second question.

"Yes," he replied with more force.

Noticing that he still stood awkwardly in the doorway, Georgiana invited him to sit on the chaise at the foot of her bed. She shut the door behind him and took the velvet chair across from it near the fireplace.

"You have no fire," he observed, grasping at conversation.

"Yes, I thought it was becoming much too warm."

"I see," he concluded, silence weighing heavily in the room.

"Fitzwilliam," Georgiana began gently, continuing only when she had caught his eye. "What news do you have to tell me? I have not seen you this grave in a while and it is rather frightening."

"I am sorry to worry you, Georgiana. I... I just have some news to share that I had much rather not."

"You will feel better once you have released your burden, brother," Georgiana promised. She crossed the room to sit next to him on the chaise, offering whatever comfort she could.

He grimaced and pulled her into a one-armed embrace. "I have had a letter today, from Kent. Elizabeth received one earlier in the week from her friend, Mrs. Collins. They both had the same news."

Georgiana tensed, awaiting the news she knew was inevitable. Fitzwilliam let out a sigh and continued.

"Our cousin Anne is now officially engaged to Lord Rocheford. They plan to be wed by the end of July."

"So soon?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Suddenly stricken, she sent her brother a plea to not acknowledge what she had said. Rising from the chaise, she leaned under the mantle, staring at the lonely ash of the empty grate. She had known that their engagement was inevitable, but she had pushed all of what had happened at Kent far from her mind. A small part of her, though she loathed to admit it, had foolishly hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would have come for her instead.

Georgiana shook her head willing those traitorous thoughts away. He was her cousin's betrothed, her fiancé. He was the man who would hopefully give her cousin all the happiness she had been denied for years under Lady Catherine's tyranny. Georgiana stood tall, her back still toward her brother. She would not be the one to take away her cousin's happiness.

"When are we inviting them to Pemberley?" She asked, still facing the wall.

"What?" Fitzwilliam cried out before composing himself. "Has Elizabeth talked to you about this?"

"No," she replied, turning around. "I have not heard of this until now, although I cannot say I am greatly surprised."

"Well, she mentioned that we ought to do something to acknowledge their engagement," he trailed off at the indignation flickering onto his sister's face.

"Of course we ought to acknowledge their engagement! Anne is our cousin, Fitzwilliam! How could you think of just ignoring it?"

Fitzwilliam had never seen his sister so angry before in his life, excepting the time he and George had played a nasty prank involving her prized doll. His ire rose as he grumbled in his defense: "Well, Lady Catherine never acknowledged my marriage."

"Fitzwilliam Darcy!" Georgiana cried out in shock. "I thought you were better than Lady Catherine! Consider what Anne has been through! She has had to live with that... that... that she-dragon for her entire life and her only chance of escaping was through a marriage with you! She knew you never desired it and she never forced you, but imagine how she must have felt to see you so blessed in your own marriage while she was forced to spend every day with Lady Catherine! She has suffered more than any of us have and you would deny her the happiness of a blessed wedding! Is it not enough that she knows that the man she is marrying was forced into the union and is in love with..."

All of her rage and hysteria deflated into an overwhelming wave of tears. Her hands flew up to hide her face and try to force the traitorous tears back where they belonged. She turned toward the fireplace, but was stopped by strong arms drawing her into a comforting hug. She was beyond caring that she was supposed to be ladylike and clung to her brother's coat, soaking his clothes as she continued sobbing like she had when a child. He smoothed her hair, whispering comforting words like he had before, reminding her that she was loved, she was strong, and above all, that she was allowed to cry.

Eventually her sobs stopped and brother and sister stood together in the middle of her room. Fitzwilliam pulled apart first, taking out a handkerchief to wipe away the tears from Georgiana's cheeks. She refused to look at him, her cheeks flushing as she became fully aware of her actions. Wrenching herself out of his grasp, she turned away from him again as a few forgotten tears streaked down her face.

"I am sorry, Fitzwilliam. I should not have lost my temper," she whispered, her shame at her outburst truly heartfelt.

"Georgiana," he said with a sigh, pulling her around to face him. "It is I who should be sorry. You were absolutely correct in everything you said. I have been such a... a..."

"Ninny?" She offered with a watery smile, using her favorite insult when a child. Fitzwilliam laughed.

"Yes, more than a ninny. I will swallow my pride and write to them all, inviting them to Pemberley. Should I invite our Matlock relations, too?"

"Oh, yes! Colonel Fitzwilliam will make it that much more pleasant and the Earl of Matlock has some control over Lady Catherine."

"The she-dragon?"

"Well, she is and you know it, too!" She defended, her cheeks flushing at his mischievous smile.

"Yes, I do." After a comfortable pause, he continued. "Are you sure you will be well? You will not regret their coming?"

"I will be well, I promise you. Anne deserves every happiness and I can only be happy for her." Her brother's unconvinced look prompted her further. "I cannot be in love with him brother, I cannot. I am sure he understands this as well and all of his attention will be devoted to her. He is not a cruel man. He shall be forgotten before they come and all will be as it should be. I promise, Fitzwilliam. Trust me."

She left him no other option. He gave her one last hug, holding her close for a minute.

"I will always be amazed at the woman you have become. I am proud of you. You have more compassion than anyone I have ever met."

Georgiana willed her tears away and pulled back. "I do not think I could hold a candle to Jane."

He laughed. "I think you may surprise yourself, Georgiana."

Fitzwilliam gave her a kiss on the forehead and then stood to leave. As he did so, he caught sight of the portraits his sister had been pursuing a mere hour before. He walked closer to them, a sorrowful smile frozen on his face. Georgiana came up next to him, following his gaze.

"I daresay, Georgiana, they would both be proud of you, too," he whispered.

Georgiana turned away as mixed tears of sorrow and joy slipped silently down her cheeks. Her heart ached with emotions she could not describe, but she knew that Fitzwilliam's sincere words were the greatest gift she had ever received.

_

* * *

_

A/N: So, I think I've given up the right to make excuses. I'm trying, that's all I can say. The next chapter is a pretty exciting one. I wanted to include it earlier, but some things like logic and plot progression got in the way.

_I would like to thank my wonderful beta Mlle. Skywalker for her excellent job correcting my flamboyant tendencies and for gentle prodding to update. I would also like to thank _HertsHeart _for her help in making the whole Anglican clergy more understandable to me. I would drink to the both of you, but I currently have nothing to drink._

_Lastly is something that has been on my mind for awhile, but I've been debating about mentioning. I know this story is very popular and that almost every week I get a happy email saying that someone has added this story to their alert list. I appreciate everyone who's taken the time to do this and I really appreciate all the wonderful reviews. The thing is, is that I'm a little confused on the number of readers versus the number of reviewers. I'm not sure if the reason a lot of people aren't reviewing is if the story is eh, just good or is it my lack of consistent updating. I appreciate and welcome all criticisms. After all, by English teacher has declared that feedback is the breakfast of champions. I would greatly appreciate some more feedback because I would like to know if my story is just ok, what needs to be worked on, or it I'm doing a fine job. _

_This would be a great help, so I thank you all in advance. _

_Until the next, much quicker update!_

_Thing Two_


	17. Cyclical Nature

**Cyclical Nature**

"London! Truly?" Kitty incredulously exclaimed.

"Yes, Kitty, London," Elizabeth wearily replied. Her head already ached and Kitty's answering squeal of delight only added to her misery.

Kitty bolted out of Elizabeth's study, barreling into Georgiana who was emerging from the music room.

"Oh! Sorry Georgiana!" She called as she raced out of the room, eager to send a letter to her love and criticize her entire wardrobe.

Georgiana entered the room shaking her head. She grew concerned when she noticed Elizabeth was clutching her head.

"Are you well? Is there anything I can do?" She asked softly, taking the chair closest to her.

"No, there is nothing you can do, unless you can prevent Kitty from making those wretched noises," Elizabeth replied, clearly irritated.

Georgiana hid a smile. "I am afraid I cannot. Would a walk around the lake be helpful? It would only be us and nature's solitude."

Elizabeth considered this proposition. She was rather tired, but the sound of Kitty barging into the room again settled her opinion.

"A walk would be lovely, Georgiana. Let me get my things," she answered, rising stiffly from the chair.

"Lizzy! When are we leaving and how long are we staying? Charles said he would take me to a play the next time I was in town, would that be alright?" Kitty rattled off breathlessly.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and composed herself.

"We leave at the end of the week and we shall be there about a month. I do not know if we shall visit Netherfield or not, but I am sure Mr. Bingley will be happy to take you to a play whenever he can," Elizabeth offered in a dangerously even tone.

"La! How silly you are, Lizzy! I meant Mr. Stafford, not Mr. Bingley! Thank you, Lizzy!" Kitty laughed as she flew out of the room again.

Georgiana giggled softly and Elizabeth gave her a weary smile, deciding not to dwell on Mr. Stafford.

"Come, let us fetch our things and have a few moments of peace!" She declared, marching resolutely up to her room.

Georgiana smiled softly at these events as she fetched her own bonnet until the weight of what had been revealed to her sank in. They were returning to London, the place she dreaded almost as much as Kent. She sighed as she tied on her bonnet. Society would forever be her greatest fear. She wished she never had to endure it.

More melancholy thoughts accosted her as she blindly traversed the halls to meet Elizabeth at the main doors. Kitty's obvious excitement and continuing relationship signaled that she would, in all likelihood, be shortly engaged. Elizabeth would have her baby and then, if all went well, there would be more children. Soon she would just become an added burden in the house. She knew both Elizabeth and her brother loved her, but she would feel like a burden nonetheless. She had no obvious connections in society and had no marriage prospects. Yes, she was a fine catch, but no one seemed to be doing any catching.

At least she had the consolation of her friend's wedding to look forward too. Miss Rowndell had sent the invitation and charmingly asked Georgiana to be one of her bridesmaids. Elizabeth had even promised to buy her a new gown to entice her to London.

Then she had received a letter from Anne, who also asked her to be a bridesmaid. Anne knew how much it might pain her to come, but she had so few friends that she dearly wished she would accept. Georgiana's compassion led her to accept her cousin's offer; after all, it was her wedding day. She knew the day would not be easy, but it would be necessary. There was no possibility of a future with Lord Rocheford, but she hoped that perhaps they might develop a friendship.

"For Heaven's sake, Georgiana, I must have been waiting for hours!"

Elizabeth was waiting impatiently in the entryway.

"Sorry, Elizabeth," she replied sincerely.

Elizabeth's anger suddenly deflated. "No, I am sorry Georgiana. My temper has always been short, but it has become so much worse lately."

"I have been told that it is not uncommon when one is with child."

"I know. You all have been so wonderful about my tempers. A walk will set up me up perfectly."

They descended the steps and headed for the garden. Georgiana did not wish to mention that the sky looked frightfully cloudy. It was not until they passed under the arbor that the first bit of thunder rumbled warningly above then. Looking up, Elizabeth fixed the gloomy clouds with a very decided scowl and unleashed a warning of her own.

Georgiana blushed and hid her head. She had never heard _those_ words before...

* * *

The eternal London rain drizzled down the window panes, the steady drumming forming a constant music to everyday life. Legan House stood somberly, muffled sounds of servants and the repetitive ticking of the gleaming grandfather clock adding to the muted cacophony of London. Both master and mistress had removed to the library and the cozy fireplace. One of the young mistresses was out while the other forced creativeness in the parlor. The bustle of horses and a carriage at the steps amplified the servant noises, but did not penetrate the sphere of the creative. With obsessive frustration, she labored on, diligently practicing an archaic art.

"Good afternoon, Kitty. Your painting is coming along wonderfully! The lessons with the painter are really helping your colors," Georgiana exclaimed as she entered the parlor, a soft smile remaining from her visit.

"Thank you," Kitty replied distractedly, obviously pleased, but still perturbed by something in her project. "How was Miss Rowndell?"

"Very well. Mr. Campwell was there, as well as his sister. They invited us all to the concert on Thursday. A fine singer from Italy is to perform."

"I suppose we must go then..."

Kitty looked up to see Georgiana's nod before giving an angry sigh and returning to her paint.

"Kitty, I know you do not particularly care for Miss Rowndell, but it would mean a great deal to me if you came as well. You could even invite Miss Whitney if you wish."

Kitty's eyes lit up and she was instantly more agreeable to the plan. Perhaps she could persuade Charles to go as well.

"Was it all wedding talk?"

"No. They did talk about it, but not exclusively."

"Why are they having their wedding in London? It's so odd. I thought it was always from the lady's home?"

"Well, the Rowndells chiefly live in London."

"Oh."

They drifted into silence, Kitty continuing her painting and Georgiana picking up her embroidery. Georgiana could not concentrate. She redid the same stitch five times and bit her lower lip in thought. There was troubling news and no easy way to say it, but she could not leave it unsaid.

"Kitty?"

"Hmm?"

"Are... are you still writing to Mr. Stafford?"

Kitty's hand stilled as her head pivoted to stare at Georgiana. "Perhaps."

Georgiana's eyes turned downward, unable to look at Kitty and utter her next words. "I-I have learned a great many things a-about him. He has not been idle while we have been away. H-he has been seen about town with many other women."

Kitty inflated in indignation. "I'm sure they were just acquaintances! Just because I have been dragged off across the country doesn't mean he can't socialize!"

Georgiana took a deep breath, fortifying herself for the next move. "Kitty, he has been seen in very private situations with many of these women."

"I thought you were above gossip, Georgiana! Pray, where did you hear all these falsehoods?"

"From Miss Rowndell and Mr. Campwell, Kitty, and they--"

Kitty screamed in rage, her livid face contorting into a hideous mask. She flung her brush to the floor, scattering cerulean on the fine rug, and marched across the room.

"Them? Them?" Her voice was climbing towards hysteria. "They hate me, Georgiana! They despise me! I'm not like any of you and they just can't accept that. Of course they would spread falsehoods about Charles! They probably think I'm overstepping my place!"

"Kitty, please, they do not think that! Sit down, calm down--"

Instead, Kitty let out another scream and turned abruptly toward the door. She swept out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Georgiana sat there stunned, immobile. Her heart was beating erratically, her breath coming in short gasps. A sudden shout from the street below jolted her into the present. She glanced quickly at the window before repressed tears crashed through her. Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed. The scene she had just witnessed was unfathomable and she suddenly wished she did not have a sister.

* * *

Elizabeth let out a sigh of overwhelming frustration. The calming social pace at Pemberley made her unused to the mounting demands of London. She was always eager for a dance or entertainment, but good Lord, the amount of invitations awaiting them when they entered Legan House was baffling! Fitzwilliam let her plan their social engagements as he did not want to tax her in her condition. Elizabeth found this endearing and loathsome. She appreciated the sentiment, but not the work it entailed.

As she weighed the merits between Mrs. Fienley's soiree and Lady Hargreve's dinner party, a maid entered with some welcomed refreshment.

"Thank you," Elizabeth greeted, accepting the tea with a sigh.

"Is aught amiss, ma'am?" The maid offered, looking at the cluttered disorder of the mistress' desk.

"Nothing more than the social demands of every house in London," Elizabeth replied. "I would as soon stay at home than traipse around town."

"I daresay, ma'am, if it is not bold to say... That is..." The flustered maid paused, not continuing until Elizabeth had given her an encouraging look. "I daresay, ma'am, that your condition would allow you to remain at home."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, it would, but it would not be kind to leave Mr. Darcy with all the burden of socializing. He would probably anger half the town!"

The maid offered a small laugh, joining her mistress.

"Your kindness, Elizabeth, knows no bounds," the master stated dryly from the doorway.

The maid instantly paled, schooling her features into a blank slate, dipping her head low. Elizabeth's mouth twisted in amusement as she rose to greet her husband.

"As always, my dear, just as your ability to frighten others with that stern look of yours." She laughed as his stern look faltered. The maid managed a smile at this still unusual sight of her master being teased. Elizabeth kindly excused the maid who eagerly vanished to tell the tale downstairs.

"So, have you finished booking my social engagements while you recline gracefully at home?" Fitzwilliam teased as he held her in an embrace.

"Have you written your aunt regarding future engagements while I slave away all day?" She retorted good-naturedly.

"Yes, I have," he replied, his abhorrence of the task apparent.

"Good. I have engaged us to attend the Shevingtons' ball and join the Rowndells at the opera on Thursday. Would you prefer Mrs. Fienley's soiree or Lady Hargreve's dinner party?"

Darcy made a face in disgust. "Must I choose?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, you must. I know nothing of these people."

"Mrs. Fienley inherited money through trade and tried to win my favor during her first Season. Her mother was good friends with Lady Catherine. Lady Hargreve I know no ill of, but her husband and I were often at odds with each other at school."

Elizabeth smirked. "So it really becomes a matter of who will be more irritated by the evening."

"Then we should go to Lady Hargreve's," Fitzwilliam answered hurriedly, relieved that his wife laughed instead of being offended.

"I am rather temperamental," she admitted playfully, then sobered and continued seriously. "I do appreciate you tolerating my... extremes."

Fitzwilliam laughed a true deep laugh, causing his wife to smile. "'Extremes' is a very pleasant way of wording it, love. I can tolerate any extreme because I know what a precious gift you are carrying."

His hand rested on her stomach, which was showing noticeable signs of the special commission it was charged with. He looked at it and then at Elizabeth in wonder. Elizabeth smiled gently and leaned up to give her husband a kiss. They stood there sweetly in an embrace, taking advantage of the simple moment that somehow did not occur as often as they wished.

Soon after, a bustle at the door indicated an arrival. They reluctantly moved apart and watched as Kitty and Georgiana entered. Kitty rushed in with an energetic air, barely able to contain her excitement. Georgiana was troubled.

"Lizzy! May I go? Please say I may!" Kitty burst out, her face a picture of perfect glee.

"Go where, Kitty?" Elizabeth questioned, annoyance clearly written in her face and tone.

"Oh! Well, let me tell you," Kitty replied in rapture. "Miss Whitney invited me to a private dinner party at her home tomorrow and to a play in the evening."

"Who else will be attending?" Elizabeth asked shrewdly. She knew Kitty could not be so joyous over a simple dinner party.

"Heaven if I know! She only said some close family friends that have would be stopping in London on their return home. I believe they had been visiting in Bath or Lyme or some such place," Kitty answered carelessly. "May I go?"

Elizabeth looked at her husband, his reserved countenance revealing nothing, even to her. He was watching Georgiana, who remained troubled. Left relying on her own judgment, she agreed, but not without a feeling that it was not the correct answer at all.

Kitty overflowed with happiness and rushed up to give her sister a tight embrace. She nearly danced out the door and left the room much more sedated than when she entered.

"What is the matter, Georgiana?" Elizabeth immediately asked, turning to her other sister.

"I... I cannot quite explain it," she answered softly, her attempt at a smile more of a grimace. "I do not feel so easy about Kitty. Do you know if she is engaged?"

Elizabeth started and Fitzwilliam instantly looked at her. "Why do you think that? No one has asked for her hand!"

Georgiana grimaced again. "People have noticed her attachment to Mr. Stafford a-and some people have been questioning its propriety given that there is no public engagement."

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam looked troubled. "I will have a talk with her then," Elizabeth sighed, envisioning that conversation with dread.

Her eyes clouded with sadness and her whole figure slumped with this knowledge. A painful memory crossed her mind, adding to her dejected aspect. Lydia...

Her husband wordlessly hugged her, offering whatever comfort he could. The attempt at a smile that creased her face betrayed how perturbed she really was

"Will we see anything of Jane when Mr. Bingley comes to town?" Georgiana boldly asked in an effort to distract her sister from her troubles.

As Fitzwilliam did not reply, Elizabeth was forced to shake off her thoughts and answer.

"Oh. Unfortunately not. She cannot bear to be away from Beth and will not hear of traveling with the child." Elizabeth smiled as she recalled the protective mother Jane had become.

"I suppose it is all for the best. Hopefully we shall visit them soon in Netherfield."

"Perhaps we shall see them at a more convenient location," Fitzwilliam offered. His face betrayed no hint of his meaning, but the sparkle in his eye alerted Georgiana that something was afoot.

"A more convenient location? Brother, do tell me! You know I cannot tolerate surprises!" Georgiana pleaded.

"Well," Fitzwilliam began slowly, eager to prolong his sister's suspense. "There may be an occasion in the future where Netherfield will cease to be a place of interest."

"Cease to be..." She echoed, puzzled. Elizabeth was smiling in conspiracy and would not give anything away. Suddenly, Georgiana smiled, her eyes remaining hesitant. "Are they moving from Netherfield?"

Fitzwilliam laughed. "You were always too clever. Yes, to the estate in Lincolnshire that Mr. Epworth informed us of. It almost pains me to admit that he has been of great use."

"Brother!" Georgiana exclaimed as they all laughed. "Truly, Mr. Epworth is not as horrible as you make him out to be. You just cannot abide him because he caters to fashions and loves to bait you."

"Those seem to be perfectly legitimate reasons to dislike someone."

Georgiana fixed him with a look that eerily reminded him of Elizabeth. "Brother, you know that logic is not sound."

"Perhaps not... but as long as I am civil to him, you do not need to quarrel with me. Elizabeth makes sure I keep my bad humors to myself."

"True, if you mean that by keeping them to yourself, you are keeping them to me instead," Elizabeth teased.

Fitzwilliam tried to look affronted as the girls laughed.

"Come Fitzwilliam, do not be annoyed. We love you even with your bad humors."

"Thank you, Elizabeth," he answered dryly.

Georgiana smiled as she watched them banter. It was refreshing to see her brother without his frigid composure. The genuine smile that graced his face when he was around Elizabeth was something she used to only rarely see. Sometimes she wondered that he was not offended at the liberties Elizabeth took with him, but she supposed love was the answer to that. She quietly excused herself and left them together, wondering if she would ever be as fortunate to find a love like theirs.

* * *

A few days found Georgiana reluctantly following her brother and sister through a gilded doorway. The Shevingtons' ball glittered before her, flickering candles, sparkling jewels, and bright feathers curling upward toward the gold inlaid ceilings. Various perfumes and colognes swirled together to create a putrid musky sweet smell that increased her nausea. Gossip weaved around them; Georgiana could feel its insistent web already tangling her. There was nothing for it. There was no way to escape this crush of refinement and repressed hostility.

Kitty, however, plunged headlong into the throng after dashing through the required necessities. Her head was full of her beloved and nothing else would halt her quest. The haphazardly affixed feather she had perched on her head vanished amidst the crowd and soon Georgiana was left to follow mutely behind her siblings once again. They joined the almost stagnant crowd meandering towards the ballroom. She turned her gaze and dipped a small bow whenever society demanded she pay homage to some slight acquaintance. Lingering in distant musings, she concluded that her situation was uncomfortably akin to that of an animal being lead to slaughter. It was not a comforting notion.

The ballroom burst upon them, conversation dispersing into an ever-present hum, a welcome relief compared to the deafening roar in the crowded rooms. Servers in muted livery floated about with glasses of wine and the grand matrons sat in state by the punch. Georgiana's gaze quickly looked away and fell on the dancers in the center of the room. Miss Isabel and Mr. Campwell were clearly enjoying their last days of courtship, dancing the scandalous waltz with months of pent up desire. Mr. Levine was there with his newly betrothed, and the Miss Whitney's were both enjoying the attentions of two of the newest dandies. As the amorous set kept moving, Georgiana realized her brother and sister were making their courtesies to a friend of her brother.

She performed her curtsy and endured a few good-natured comments on how she had grown into quite the young lady. Then the couples drifted into their own conversation and Georgiana returned to silently surveying the room. She remained thus for a good while, causing increased speculation about her haughtiness. It was not until she noticed a couple approaching her did she stir from her reverie.

"Amelia?" Her surprised expression matched her tone.

Amelia smiled amusedly and replied, "Yes, Georgiana and do stop staring. I am not that frightful a sight."

"N-no, of course not!" Georgiana hastily answered. "I-I was just very shocked at seeing you here. Were you not supposed to be in Derbyshire?"

"We were, but we left for town a few days before you left. Nathaniel was invited to the wedding of a college friend. Mr. Campwell, was it not?" She finished, turning to her brother.

"Yes, Amelia. I haven't seen that chap in well over a year. I don't know where he hides!" Mr. Epworth declared, smoothly gliding into a deep bow. "We find ourselves in quite a formal setting, Miss Darcy. Very much removed from our larks in Derbyshire. I shall never get used to you becoming 'Miss Darcy' now."

Georgiana blushed while Amelia admonished her brother. "You have been calling her 'Miss Darcy' for a few years now, Nathaniel," she stated in a withering tone. "You have no need to embarrass her by voicing your stupidity."

Mr. Epworth looked at his sister in amusement, but her chastisement had the intended effect. "Of course, sister. I am heartily sorry, Miss Darcy, that you had to bear witness to my extreme bout of stupidity and insensitivity. Would you allow me to make amends by dancing the next set with me, if you are not otherwise engaged?"

Georgiana, caught between amusement, terror, and shock, managed a meek 'yes' in response. Mr. Epworth smiled jovially and turned to catch the interest of her brother and that party. Miss Epworth placed a hand gently on Georgiana's arm and gave her a comforting smile.

"You know he is just teasing you, Georgiana. You do not need to be alarmed. One dance will satisfy the old hags in the corner for a while and if Nathaniel does not have you smiling and at ease by the end of the dance, then I shall forever despair of him."

Georgiana calmed at her words and was able to introduce her to the rest of the party with little hesitation and embarrassment. She offered her opinion on the new play they had seen, but was otherwise silent. The conversation was entertaining enough and she thought that perhaps the ball was not the set up for ruin.

The current dance ended and Mr. Epworth artfully excused them. Fitzwilliam's face was one of surprise and barely disguised anger. He unconsciously drew himself higher as he surveyed Epworth's charming face.

"Come, come, Darcy," Epworth laughed. "Save your piercing stares for the true vagabonds trying to steal your sister away. One dance between long friends should have no occasion to bring up your ire."

Georgiana sent her brother a small smile that managed to pacify him. He turned so he could watch their progress in the dance. His sister moved gracefully and Epworth was an admirable dancer, although he loathed admitting it. They complimented each other well and he even saw his sister genuinely smile at some remark made by her companion. It was just the remedy she needed, but that it should have come from Epworth's hands was a bone of contention.

"You will frighten away any other partners with your incessant staring," his wife gently reminded him.

"The better for her!"

Elizabeth fixed him with a look that meant he was being childish and she was getting annoyed. Stifling his anger, he turned back to the group. He would be foolish to test the volatility of his wife's temper. The conversation could not satisfy him until the dance was ended. Epworth and Georgiana returned, Epworth entreating the others to voice their opinion on the topic they had been discussing. Fitzwilliam noticed that his sister was much more at ease and willing to converse following the dance.

A short while later, theEpworths and Georgiana departed to visit with Miss Rowndell and Mr. Campwell. Fitzwilliam became absorbed in the conversation and the next time he sought out his sister, it was to see her dancing with a man he recognized, but did not know. A hand on his arm distracted the protective anger welling up in him.

"He is Sir Arthur Dencourt from Somerset. He graduated from Cambridge with a good amount of awards and has been running his estate ever since. I heard he rarely comes to London. His younger brother has run up quite a few gambling debts, so I imagine he has come to settle those on this trip. I have heard nothing ill of him personally, though."

Fitzwilliam stared at his wife in amazement. She was unaware of his attention as she was observing the couple on the floor.

"How do you know all this?"

She gave him a sly smile. "I listen, Fitzwilliam."

"Well, he should have come and introduced himself to us first," he groused.

"But you still would have found fault with him. We have had this discussion before, Fitzwilliam. You cannot prevent her from dancing. She has more discernment now and we are constantly together. I would not wish you to _not_ feel protective, but you must not let it control you so much. You are going to have to trust her judgment."

Fitzwilliam sighed. "You are right, as usual, Elizabeth."

She laughed, a sight and sound that always lifted his spirits. "Not 'as usual,' but often enough, I grant you. Be civil, Fitzwilliam."

This last was said in a warning tone as the dancing couple came over. Sir Arthur Dencourt bowed graciously and they chatted pleasantly for a while. He was a well-travelled man and they compared the various natural beauties of England. Fitzwilliam found himself reasonably entertained, yet the tension dissipating from his shoulders was the only sign of approval.

Georgiana soon found herself dancing again with a friend of Mr. Campwell whom she was acquainted with. Elizabeth smiled happily at Georgiana's progress, especially given her recent setback with Lord Rocheford. Even Fitzwilliam was able to appreciate Georgiana's ease. This was the young lady she had been on the way to becoming before she had been waylaid by certain events he would not dwell on. Finally she was achieving it.

The ball continued with admirable success, but Elizabeth soon worried at Kitty's lack of appearance. She had only seen her dancing twice, both times with Mr. Stafford. The reports she was hearing of that man only made her uneasy. While she had full confidence in Georgiana's discernment, she still had little faith in Kitty's. Lydia's influence remained firmly entrenched.

Fitzwilliam noted his wife's distraction and used his imposing height to his advantage. They entered the dining room arm in arm and he covertly looked around for that wayward pink feather. He looked in vain. The crowd in the room was such that no one could be discerned from anyone else and he found that pink feathers were apparently more en vogue than he believed possible. Servants floated around, serving delectable dishes, and still Kitty's place at the table remained empty.

Elizabeth was quite obviously worried. Mr. Epworth had at least asked their leave to escort Georgiana to supper and they had watched the pair join Mr. Campwell and Miss Rowndell's party. The last ices melted as the young dancers were rejuvenated and returned to the ballroom. A few groups drifted to the conservatory to admire some rare flora while some of the older patrons wandered over to the card tables.

The Darcys returned to the ballroom, hoping to find the missing girl among the throng. A lively dance made up the first set and still no Kitty appeared. Elizabeth was hard pressed to conceal her agitation. She managed to keep herself composed, if quiet, when accosted by acquaintances and make vague answers to inquiries of her sister. Finally, during the fifth set, Kitty appeared again with Mr. Stafford.

Elizabeth kept her eyes trained on the pair, allowing them no room to escape at the conclusion of the dance. The intimacy between them was obvious and she could not like it. Their amorous presence among the dancers made their previous absence more noticeable and gave rise to hushed speculation. Kitty caught sight of Elizabeth and practically dragged her beau the scant feet to her sister. Her high spirits spun amusement, so she countered her sister's glare with a laugh.

"Oh Lizzy! Trying to frighten the dancers away? You're becoming quite as fierce as Mr. Darcy!" Kitty giggled, hanging tightly on the arm of her beloved.

Elizabeth's glared hardened. "I am doing no such thing, Kitty. Where have you disappeared to?"

"We were on the tour of the gallery, ma'am," Mr. Stafford glibly replied as Kitty dissolved again into giggles.

"It is a fine gallery. Which piece is your favorite?" Mr. Epworth asked, suddenly joining their group with a glass of wine for Elizabeth. The sternness in her face did not abate as she continued to stare down the couple before them.

Kitty instantly looked alarmed, but Mr. Stafford smiled back in challenge. "The charming landscape by ____. I heard it was quite a recent acquisition."

Kitty's open relief did nothing to aide her sister, whose wine glass was now on the verge of combustion from intense pressure. Mr. Epworth smiled knowingly, but did not pursue the issue. He asked for Kitty's hand for the next set and she instantly claimed fatigue.

"Come, Miss Bennet, surely one dance has not put you out of spirits! It is but a calm dance, nothing scandalous, I assure you," he directed toward Mr. Stafford.

Since her beloved made no resistance, Kitty reluctantly accepted Mr. Epworth's proffered hand. By this time, Mr. Darcy had entered their circle, carefully taking in his wife's demeanor. He gently removed her glass and his immovable countenance stayed Mr. Stafford from escape.

"You have made yourself quite scarce this evening," he stated coldly, drawing up his imposing figure to new heights.

Stafford's face imparted only satisfaction, happiness, and a total innocence of any wrongdoing. "I am very ashamed if my actions have made that impression, sir. I was merely enjoying the company of your sister. She is a very pleasant girl."

"She has high spirits, sir," Elizabeth interposed in a tone that commanded strict attention. "She is like any impressionable young girl who is desirous to fall in love. A woman's reputation is _very_ fragile. Miss Bennett is very dear to _all_ of us."

"Naturally,ma'am. I am very fond of my own sister. You have no worries on my score, I assure you."

"Perhaps you might remain in the ballroom this evening then. Your absence has been noticed," Fitzwilliam added. His frigid eyes almost made Stafford start.

"Of course, sir. I am afraid my high spirits have made me rather forgetful. As you wish, sir," he replied with a deep bow.

The dance ended and Kitty returned full of obnoxious anxiety to be with her beloved. Mr. Epworth was surprisingly somber. She instantly attached herself to Stafford and declared loudly that she was parched. He smoothly removed them from the group who remained in sober reflection.

Mr. Epworth broke the silence first with a noise of disgust. "Watch him. He has her head all wrapped in fog."

Fitzwilliam nodded while Elizabeth stared unseeingly. Mr. Epworth gave a bow and departed as well.

"Elizabeth?" Fitzwilliam gently nudged the glass of wine into her hands. She shook her head to rearrange her thoughts and accepted the glass with a small smile.

"Wool-gathering. Nothing more," she replied, her smile wider, but lacking the brilliance that usually accompanied it.

"A ball is not a place for wool-gathering," he countered, trying to urge her back into spirits. "Would you like to dance?"

Her lips parted in a surprised laugh. "Fitzwilliam! You know I cannot dance!"

"Now that is a complete falsehood, Mrs. Darcy. I never knew you told tales! Is it because you find your prospective partner barely tolerable?"

She raised her delicate eyebrow in an attempt to look stern, but the amused quirk of her lips negated it. "Not at all, sir. I do not find him tolerable at all."

Fitzwilliam laughed, startling their neighbors and instantly alerting the gossips. Fitzwilliam Darcy laughing was an unheard of spectacle. His face was much more handsome when the proud lines were softened by the amusement and love only his wife could command. There was a marked difference in his manner since marriage. He was more amiable and willing to join in the mundane conversations he so loathed. The haughty, distant demeanor was slowly crumbling, revealing the true man beneath the plaster. Although his present happiness was to be credited to his life, society still failed to believe that such an unequal marriage would bring lasting happiness. They calculated with glee the day scandal would rip the couple apart and provide the hungry gossips with sustenance to their claims.

* * *

"Kitty," Elizabeth called, knocking on the door to her room. "May I come in?"

"Just a moment," Kitty answered. Elizabeth heard the distinct thunk of the writing desk being shut. Footsteps crossed the floor and the door opened.

"Yes?" Kitty asked as Elizabeth entered.

"Your painting is really improving, Kitty," Elizabeth began, spying the easel by the window. It was a beautiful landscape of a lake edged by lofty trees.

"Thank you," Kitty answered with a hint of irritation.

"What is the matter?" Elizabeth asked, turning to her sister.

"I was just busy when you knocked," Kitty replied tersely, her eyes straying to the writing desk.

"I see. Busy painting or writing a letter to Mr. Stafford?" Elizabeth questioned shrewdly.

Kitty's eyes went wide with shock, but her jaw set defiantly. "Painting."

"Kitty, do not lie to me. I heard your writing desk close before you opened the door."

"I know you do not approve of him. You don't want me to be happy with the man I love!"

"Kitty," Elizabeth said in a deadly even tone. "I have said nothing of the sort."

"You don't need to, Lizzy. I saw how you and Mr. Darcy treated us at the ball. It was embarrassing. You don't understand us! You don't want me to be happy!"

"Kitty, please!" Elizabeth exclaimed angrily. "Sit down and listen."

"I will not, Lizzy! You aren't Mama or Papa and I haven't done anything wrong!" Kitty stamped her foot in added belligerence.

"You are correct, Kitty. I am not Mama or Papa, but I am your sister and you are acting like a child. I am not looking for a quarrel. I would just like to speak with you as your sister."

Kitty huffed and violently sat down in the chair, crossing her arms as she slumped down. Elizabeth took a deep, calming breath as she took the chair across from her.

"Kitty," she began gently. "I have noticed your attachment with Mr. Stafford. I had not realized how serious that attachment had become until the ball and I have only myself to blame for that. Kitty, your behavior at the ball worries me. To disappear for such a long time with a man who is not family is very scandalous! Your honor and reputation are everything, Kitty, and you should not treat them so carelessly."

"I am well aware that I am penniless, Lizzy, but Mr. Stafford does not mind. He is rich enough for the both of us."

"But, Kitty, we know hardly anything of Mr. Staffod. The first time we talked to him for any length of time was at the ball and if he loves you so well, he would not be so careless with your honor!"

"He is not careless. I went willingly and he is my beau, so you needn't be concerned in _my_ affairs!"

"He has proposed?"

Kitty paused, knowing this dart was true. Elizabeth skillfully kept her face blank.

"No, he has not, but I know he will soon!"

"Has he said as much to you?"

"No," Kitty replied, getting frustrated, "But he loves me and wants to be with me!"

"Kitty, I have no doubt that Mr. Stafford has feelings for you, but I do doubt his sincerity. He has been linked to many young women in town during our absence, and not many women of good reputation."

"They are lies, Lizzy!" Kitty exploded from her seat. "Lies spread by Miss Rowndell and all of them! I am not like them and they hate me! Why can't you all just let me be happy?"

"Kitty," Elizabeth reasoned gently. "Have you so quickly forgotten that I know how you feel? I was 'penniless' too. I know it is hard, but that is why our reputations are so much more important. Even if these are just rumors that Miss Rowndell saw fit to tell us, they are things to take into consideration. You would not like to be thought of as one of Mr. Stafford's many women, would you?"

"No," Kitty grumpily admitted.

"As much as you dislike Miss Rowndell, she would have told us the same thing had it been Georgiana's beau. We are only interested in protecting you, Kitty, and making sure you are safe and happy."

Elizabeth smiled sincerely at Kitty who could not doubt that her sister cared about her. She sighed and sat back down in her chair.

"You have not forgotten Lydia so quickly, have you?" Elizabeth asked gently, taking every care to make it not sound like an accusation. Kitty shook her head. "We just do not want anything similar to happen to you. We would be so heartbroken, Kitty."

"Lizzy, you do not need to worry. I am not Lydia and Charles is not Wickham!"

"I know that, Kitty, I do. But I also know very little about Mr. Stafford. We would like to have him over for dinner and have him visit you here for a while. I also want you to promise that when we are in company, you will not leave alone with Mr. Stafford again. I do not want to punish you or treat you like a child, Kitty, but I will if I have to."

"You don't leave me much of a choice," Kitty answered sullenly.

"You should be lucky this is all I have asked, Kitty," Elizabeth retorted with an edge to her voice.

"Yes, Elizabeth," Kitty agreed reluctantly.

"Do I have your word?"

"Yes!" Kitty answered forcefully.

"Thank you, Kitty," Elizabeth stated as she rose out of her chair. "Let me know when he would like to visit."

"I will, Elizabeth. Would you mind if I return to my letter?" She countered rather rudely.

"Of course," Elizabeth replied, showing herself out of the room. As she shut the door, she hoped that she had done the correct thing. The last thing they needed was a scandal.

* * *

The painter's studio was the definition of organized chaos. Various works, half covered by thick cloths, stood at idle easels with an array of colors perched on palettes beside them. One was a portrait of a haughty young couple, the second a wide expanse of fields and trees with a manor house in the distance, and the third was of the Serpantine in Hyde Park with many couples strolling along its edge. A trail of multi-hued drops marked the trail to the counter where he mixed all of his paints to get just the right shade to the easels where he applied him. Wide windows let in as much sunlight as possible, the curtains pulled back as far as they could go. Half-melted candles stood in scattered candelabra waiting for the sun to retreat. At first Kitty had found his studio intimidating, but now she had come to enjoy it.

The painter was a quiet, willowy man who looked upon conversation as an intrusion. His long, thin arms stretched forward to his various paintings as he stomped around the studio. She quickly learned to work silently while mixing her colors and applying them in just the right way. He was an invaluable teacher once she was used to eccentricities. Working quietly in his studio proved to calm her, a fact she found greatly surprising. As she methodically mixed various colors together and tried to finish the still life she was working on, she felt her anger at Elizabeth, Georgiana, and her snobby friends dissipate. She supposed they only meant well to warn her off of Charles, but really, they did not know him as well as she did. He was everything that was honorable and kind. Occasionally, she allowed, he did become negligent in his communication, but she assumed that business and other matters were often on his mind. If he were truly disinterested, he would not bother to write at all.

After two hours in the studio, she finally finished her work. The painter stomped over and surveyed it with a critical eye. Silently taking her brush, he swirled some colors on the palette and applied them in quick strokes at the base of the bowl in her painting. Instantly the shadow became more defined and the proportions corrected. With that slight correction, he replaced the brush and looked at his pupil.

"Well done, Miss Bennet. You have made much progress," he offered succinctly.

Kitty beamed and thanked him until he became irritated. Ushering her out of the studio, he returned to the refreshing silence. Kitty managed to secure a cab to take her to Hyde Park where she had already arranged to meet Charles. She waited impatiently as she was late leaving the studio and worried he might be waiting.

* * *

Georgiana let her fingers lightly drift over the rows of fabric lining the shop. She was in need of a few new muslins for daywear and a formal gown for Anne's wedding. This shop was her favorite, but she seemed to be having little luck finding anything to suit her. None of the patterns appealed to her simpler tastes and she was nearly ready to abandon her search for the day. Elizabeth was haggling over the price of a pair of dancing slippers toward the left of the shop. She was a remarkable haggler, but she would never own that she inherited this trait from her mother. Georgiana watched amusedly as Elizabeth and the shopkeeper argued good-naturedly. The shopkeeper loved a good haggler to break up the monotony.

Tabitha, the shopkeeper's daughter, approached Georgiana as she watched the display. Just a year younger than Georgiana, Tabitha's advice had been almost essential to Georgiana in all her years visiting the shop. She was one of the main reasons Georgiana loved coming there.

"Can I help you, Miss Darcy?" Tabitha asked kindly.

"Well, I am in need of some new clothes for visits during the day and something pretty for a bridesmaid's dress," Georgiana quietly replied.

Tabitha's eyes sparkled at this news. "A bridesmaid? Oh, Miss Darcy, you are very lucky. Come, we just finished this new room where we keep some of the newer fabrics. Are you looking for a specific color? Oh, I hope not. There is one cloth that will look charming on you, I'm sure!"

Grinning, Tabitha led the way to the new room, which was stacked with bolts upon bolts of cloth.

"You are very lucky, for we just finished this room a week ago. Papa keeps forgetting to remind the customers that it is here. Now, were you looking for a particular color for the dress?"

It took Georgiana a moment to catch up with Tabitha's rapid change in topic. "No, no particular color."

"Wonderful!" Tabitha exclaimed, clapping her hands together as she charged toward the cloth. Sifting through the bolts of cloth as Georgiana wandered around, she finally found what she was looking for. "What do you think?"

The cloth she held up was a pale rose, the material itself so gauzy it was nearly transparent. At first Georgiana was tempted to refuse it, but Tabitha moved so the meager light from the window could shine on it. Gold thread was woven in, giving the cloth a shimmering glow. Georgiana hesitated, knowing the cloth was quite transparent. Tabitha, with the cunning of her profession, noticed the change and quickly placed a thicker fabric of a darker rose underneath to rest her fears. The effect was startling.

"This is beautiful," she stated in awe, reaching forward to touch the material. It was smooth and soft, traits that made it endearing.

Tabitha smiled in triumph. "I knew you would love it, and I am sure it will look perfect on you. May I show it to your sister?"

Georgiana peered out the doorway to see Elizabeth chatting good-naturedly with the shopkeeper, her purchase already wrapped. After a moment's inner debate, Georgiana shook her head.

"No, thank you. I would like to try to find some muslins first and then show her all together."

"Of course, Miss Darcy," Tabitha replied with a polite curtsey, although she was a bit upset at loosing the opportunity to boast.

"I will call you when I am ready and then you may help me show them," Georgiana offered, trying to make amends for denying her friend of immediate pleasure.

Tabitha grinned and agreed, darting into the other section of the shop as the chime above the door sounded. A well-dressed lady entered with her daughter and immediately demanded to be waited on. Georgiana looked on in sympathy for her friend, but soon returned to the heaps of cloth around her. After a few minutes of searching, she found a light green muslin sprigged with clusters of pink flowers and a cream one with a printed diamond design. She was debating between a sky blue material polka-dotted white and a cinnamon colored muslin with an intricate red design when she heard a floorboard creak loudly.

Looking up instinctually, she noticed a gentleman standing a few feet from her. Her eyes began to retreat to her articles of debate when they were suddenly arrested by him. A tremor of recognition tensed her body and the last air in her lungs left in a whisper.

"Lord Rocheford?"

He instantly glanced up at the sound of his name that Georgiana had unfortunately uttered louder than she wished. His eyes found hers and were crossed with surprise, confusion, and other emotions she did not wish to see. Immediately darting her eyes down to the well-worn floor, she bobbed a quick curtsey, hoping to hide the blush she knew was dominating her face.

"Miss Darcy," he answered, years of good breeding forcing him into a polite bow.

They both straightened and seemed at a loss for conversation. Georgiana managed to sneak one glance up at him, but he looked highly uncomfortable. Knowing that they must move past this awkwardness in order for there to be a hope of less tension at Anne's wedding, Georgiana took a deep breath, steadying herself for the daring she was about to use.

"Con-Congratulations, my Lord," she began, scolding herself for stuttering at such a moment. She took another steadying breath before plunging on. "Congratulations on your betrothal to my cousin, Anne."

He looked on silently, his eyes looking at her suspiciously, trying to make out if she had any ulterior motive to her simple words.

"I do not think I have ever received a happier letter from her, and I believe you are to thank for that. It was very kind of her to ask me to be her bridesmaid. Will you have the wedding in Kent?"

Georgiana breathed in relief now that her jittery speech was over. She felt proud that she had overcome her shyness enough to makesuch a speech in such a situation. The conversation now effectively rested in his hands, and she waited to see how he would respond.

Rousing himself, he blinked a few times before addressing the question she had directed at him.

"As far as I know, the wedding is to be held at Rosings," he answered, but Georgiana could tell he was working up the courage to ask something of his own. "Will... will you and your family be joining us?"

Georgiana gave a small smile. "Of course. We would not wish to miss such an important day for Anne."

"Does Lady Catherine approve of your family's visit?" He asked as delicately as possible.

"Well, my brother has written to her, so we shall see what the result is." His face paled a little at this announcement, anticipating the scene awaiting him back at Rosings. "He has extended an invitation to Pemberley to all of you."

"Your brother is very gracious, Miss Darcy."

"Thank you, my Lord."

They both fell into silence looking around awkwardly. Quick footsteps on the few stairs that lead to the room heralded Elizabeth's voice.

"Georgiana! There you are. Tabitha said you had some fabric to show me."

Elizabeth caught the darting look Georgiana gave to her left and turned to follow it. She gave a slight start when she beheld the strange man standing there. He seemed just as surprised and harmless enough, but Elizabeth's protective instinct kicked in.

"I am sorry, Georgiana. I did not know you were talking to someone," Elizabeth stated neutrally, although there was a slight edge undercutting her speech.

Georgiana instinctively reacted, correctly interpreting her sister's insinuation. "It is quite all right, Elizabeth. This is the friend I met in Kent this past autumn who is engaged to our cousin Anne. Elizabeth, this is Lord Rocheford of Warwickshire. Lord Rocheford, this is my sister, Mrs. Darcy."

Lord Rocheford dipped into a perfunctory bow with a murmur of acknowledgement. Elizabeth performed her curtsey, using the time to adjust to this discovery.

"Well then, Lord Rocheford, I will offer you my congratulations on your betrothal. I am sure you will be an honorable addition to the family." Elizabeth politely let the sentence dangle there, forcing him to pick up the conversation, which he hastily did.

"I thank you,ma'am, and I hope I shall be a credit to your family. I am glad to hear we shall be fortunate enough for your company on our wedding day."

"Hopefully, sir, hopefully. Now, I will not interrupt your conversation further. Just be mindful, Georgiana, that we must be home within the next hour."

Elizabeth made to leave when Georgiana intervened.

"No, Elizabeth, stay. I believe Lord Rocheford and I have done our catching up. I do not wish to make us late tonight."

"Are you quite sure, Georgiana? We will still have plenty of time to make it to the opera."

A glance at Lord Rocheford's evident relief at the imminent escape solidified Georgiana's answer. "Yes, I am quite sure."

"Very well, then. Let us bring the fabric to the front, now. Good day, Lord Rocheford. It was a pleasure meeting you. We would be honored if you would come and have supper with all of us while you are in London. Mrs. Abel is ever ready for a chance to display her skill."

Lord Rocheford bowed, slightly embarrassed. "You are very kind Mrs. Darcy, but I must leave London at the end of the week."

"Surely you can carve out one evening for us. We are having a small party the day after next, will that be agreeable?"

"Yes,ma'am. That would be wonderful."

Lord Rocheford knew there was no avoiding this meeting, but he wondered what tricks the Darcys had up their sleeves. It seemed improbable that they did not despise him, but Mrs. Darcy seemed sincere. There was no air of art about her, and he felt certain that her eyes would have betrayed her. They had showed her suspicion of him before she knew who he was, and there had been the spark of recognition. He broodingly watched them as they curtseyed and went to pay for their goods. His eyes treacherously fell on Miss Darcy.

She was more beautiful than he remembered with those clear, blue eyes and her quiet, soft demeanor. He caught himself and let out a sigh. He was a man betrothed. He had no business thinking such thoughts. He knew that her tactic of civility was what was required, but he vainly wished it was not so. There was only one point on which he could rest easy. She did not blame him; she did not despise him. With that, he must be content. He was to wed her cousin, and she... she would wed some other man who would never be worthy of her.

* * *

Mr. Campwell leisurely crossed into Hyde Park from the stern black gate at Queen's-gate. He had roughly a half hour before he could call on his betrothed as he had forgotten they would be at the shops that afternoon. It was a fine day, a rarity in London, and he meant to make the most of it. He pursued a path that circled the center of the park, away from the volley of carriages that were meandering around, and was soon lost in reflections of the coming end of his bachelorhood. He was to be married in a few weeks time and as much as he was impatient for the day, he could not help but be a little frightened. It would be a change he was not fully prepared for.

Pounding footsteps interrupted his reverie and he whirled around to see who it was. The path behind him was empty. It was then that he became aware of rapid crackling from the hedge beside him. The footsteps were coming from there! He backed away quickly, not wanting to be accosted by some fleeing criminal.

Branches from the hedge snapped as the figure tried to push through, an act which was proving difficult even at the person's momentum. He saw the unmistakable contours of a woman's dress and his puzzlement increased. In an instant, the lady had broken through the hedge and stumbled ungracefully. Reaching forward to catch her, he was stunned when he beheld her face.

"Miss Bennet?" His voice asked incredulously.

She shrank back from him like a cornered animal. He could feel her tensing and saw her gaze contemplate retreating back into the hedge. Sensing her imminent flight, he grabbed her shoulders firmly. At the increased pressure, she began to flail and twist about, screaming incoherently. One hand remained on her shoulder to restrain her while the other jerked her face, forcing her to look at him. An expression of sheer terror colored her features, her eyes still unseeing. Giving her a firm shake, he watched her eyes come back to focus. Almost as suddenly as her fit had arisen, her scream died on her lips. Tears swelled up and a deep blush raced toward her hair. She brought her hands up to cover her face as she began, once again, to succumb to hysterics.

"Miss Bennet!" Mr. Campwell ordered forcefully, holding her firmly. "What has happened? Are you ill? Can I assist you at all?"

From between her hands the disjointed moan of "home" echoed up to him. Without sparing a further thought, he held her gently and maneuvered her toward the edge of the park. The inquisitive couple down the lane started forward to offer their assistance, but he gently shook it off saying the girl had tumbled through the hedge and they were afraid of a twisted ankle.

"Oh, how horrid!" The lady cried, clinging onto her lover's arm. "Come, John, we must turn back or we will be late for the opera."

Grimacing, yet relieved that they had been dealt with, Mr. Campwell pressed onward. Kitty leaned heavily on him and he could tell that she was close to fainting from whatever gauntlet she had just finished. He moved as quickly as he could back to the road near Queen's-gate where cabs were allowed. Thankfully, he spied one, which quickly stopped before them. He ushered Kitty in and she fell into a dead faint as soon as she sat down. The driver turned with polite inquiry and asked for a direction.

"Grosvenor Square, Legan House," Mr. Campwell replied promptly, settling Kitty into a more upright position. "And have a care, please. I'll be happy to fund any extra charge."

The driver's grimy face brightened and a "G'up" signaled their sudden departure. As the hack drove forward at a modest pace, courteously avoiding the pits in the road, Mr. Campwell wondered what could have occurred to Miss Bennet. He could tell there was some foul play involved. That she was fleeing something, or someone, he knew without a doubt. Her dress was shredded due to the thorns in the hedge, droplets of blood flecking the cloth as if they were part of the original pattern. Her face was scratched as well, but there was a section on her cheek, just beneath her eye, that was starting to bruise. It was then that he noticed that the light pelisse she was wearing had been ripped open, the buttons conspicuously absent. The bodice of her dress was torn so forcefully from the sleeve that it was a miracle her chemise remained intact. He could also see the beginnings of a bruise on her collar. Honorably focusing his eyes on the scene outside, he noticed with passing delight that they had nearly arrived.

The cab stopped gently in front of the steps, and Mr. Campwell bade the driver to stay and await his return.

"I shall be no more than a quarter hour," he informed him as he struggled to get Kitty from within the confines of the coach.

The driver nimbly tied up the horse and aided in hoisting Kitty out. Mr. Campwell was able to carry her up the steps and was immediately granted entrance by a bewildered butler. Darcy passed through the hallway in time to see them troop in the door. Mr. Campwell hurried into the first drawing room and deposited Kitty on the nearest settee. A hush descended as Darcysfootsteps followed them into the room.

"What the Devil has happened?" He demanded, staring at Mr. Campwell in suspicion.

"I found her in the park, like this," he gestured at the sedate figure.

"Kitty!" A voiced shrieked from the door. White skirts rushed past and settled next to the settee. Brown curls knelt in concern before bright eyes appraised Mr. Campwell.

"I know not what caused her condition, but she stumbled upon me in the park, running madly. I believe she was trying to escape someone or something. Her gown was already torn by the time I found her. I managed to get her into a cab before she fainted, but she was gone the whole ride," Campwell narrated softly.

Elizabeth turned to her sister, her brow creased with concern and worry. Georgiana and a maid, laden with cool water and salts, appeared during this recital.

"What is your true guess, Campwell?" Darcy asked quietly as the women began to press cool cloths on Kitty's forehead, trying to gently rouse her.

"If I were to hazard anything, I would say she was fleeing someone. A couple did spy us, but I managed to convince them it was naught more than a sprained ankle."

"I hope we can be assured of your secrecy in this matter," Darcy threatened sternly, instinctual protectiveness rising within him.

"Of course!" Campwell exclaimed, his reaction bordering on offense.

"Was she not to meet with the painter and then Miss Whitney this afternoon?" Elizabeth mused louder than she intended.

All eyes turned to the still figure. An uncomfortable silence grew as they realized Kitty's deception. With a start, Mr. Campwell offered his bows and retreated. Elizabeth shooed everyone out of the room now that the true nature of the event was revealed. Her face was suffused with shame and she could not meet the eyes of her husband. Dripping water onto her sister's face, Elizabeth watched as Kitty's eyes fluttered opened. Kitty was up with a sudden start, thrashing about the blanket, her eyes frantically darting around the room. Elizabeth's arms immediately wrapped around her, preventing her from any damage while her voice whispered soothing, calming words into her ear. Her hysteria finally passed and she succumbed into noisy sobs that were punctured by heartbroken wails.

"Oh, Lizzy! Lizzy! What have I done?"

* * *

_Finally an update!!_

_I am so terribly sorry for this mammoth delay in posting, especially after all of your kind and wonderful reviews. My schoolwork always comes before my writing and then I had a family crisis that is hopefully all taken care of. Stressed, overworked, and uninspired sums up my year. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I don't want to ever abandon this story for as long again and I am determined to finish it. This coming semester I'm taking 21 credits, including a creative writing class, so I'm going to try my best. I will probably aim for shorter chapters, but trying for quicker updates. I want to thank all of you for sticking through with this story and my infrequent updates. I hope this chapter helps make up for lost time._


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